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The Path of Death

An arrogant young man finds himself reincarnated in a fantasy realm where the paths of life dictate your everything, for Alex who was born to a wealthy family in both lives he expected death owed him for his untimely trip through the cycle. Little could he expect that Death is not one to be taken advantage of. For young Alex, a new path must be walked to sate Death's displeasure. The Path of Death.

Darth_Xiane · ファンタジー
レビュー数が足りません
38 Chs

Alexander, Necromancer

Alexander left the exchange even more sour than leaving the gate, it was likely due to him being an obvious outsider but the money changer was all too willing to fleece him of his knights and squires for a pittance of copper marks and silver whorls. The latter was a square coin half the size of his silver knights and decorated by a pair of crossed staves? Wands? It was hard to tell. Yet despite Tress coins being half the size of his own coins they seemed to be worth twice the weight of his... and from the green on both coins the purity of the Tress coins was quite questionable.

Jingling his lighter coin purse, Alexander sighed. It was a good thing he didn't bring his gold rules, chances might be high they used tin coins for a higher denomination and gold might be worth less than horse crap. He grumbled under his breath as he wandered the streets, more or less following the drifting crowds that looked more or less like low skilled adventurers, the signage was unfamiliar, shops favored pictographs over words. Take the tailor shop he just passed, its sign was a hare sewing a cloak of stars, yet the girl at the counter could be heard thanking the patronage of the Well Dressed Hare.

Shaking his head he truly wondered at the naming sense of its owner, or the artist that thought a sewing rabbit accurately depicted that name. The rest of the signs were no better, more often than not a shop depicted an animal performing the related task and the name was entirely too pompous. The Strongback Mule Forge and Fine Wares, The Golden Sow's Winery, Silver Rooster's Brothel and Bar... the last one truly made him wonder at the sensibilities of this kingdom as it depicted a phallic shaped rooster drinking deeply of a flagon surrounded by busty chickens.

The last one spoke to his unstated lust but between the name and seeing the working ladies being rather... generously proportioned, he kept looking. Quenching his lust there might see him get lost in a crease of fat and never escape. Shaking his head he walked on, listening and watching, gravitating in the general route of adventurers finally finding what he sought. Most fantasy realms had the sort, his home town did too, an adventurers guild where one could register as a sword for hire and do odd jobs.

Looking over the crowd he could easily guess the registration line, the almost exasperated counter holders faced long lines of barely equipped hopefuls and blow hards so decked out in absurd outfits it could be nothing else but the newbie registration area. Falling in line Alexander kept his eyes and ears open, rumors around here could warn him of any changes in the area, particularly any who might have seen the reactivated door and the guardian he left behind, yet nothing really jumped out, the biggest talk he heard was a magic tournament happening in the next few days, that he quickly put from his mind. No better place to reveal his true nature than a competative venue like that!

As the line move along Alexander's turn finally came around, the attendant behind the counter had leveled a withering stare at him that made him wonder if he'd stepped into the expert turn in lane by mistake. After a minute of scrutiny the fellow nodded lightly, "Very well, I take it you wish to register with the guild?"

Alexander nodded, "I've travelled a fair distance, hopefully there's no problem with such?"

The man shook his head pulling a few things from behind the counter, while he was scribbling on a piece of parchment paper he motioned to the box beside him. "Open it up, prick your finger, bleed on the crystal."

Alexander almost yanked the glove off his skeletal hand as it was his dominant one but caught himself, shifting hands he opened the box revealing what looked to be a large diamond, the multi facets shimmered with mystical light. Beside it was a small skewer with a very fine point, jabbing his index finger he squeezed his blood over the crystal which, rather than be marred by the fluid seemed to drink it in and shone with a dull red light.

The man glanced at it with a low hum before lifting the paper he had been writing over the crystal, the red hue seemed to be leeched up out of the gemstone and formed characters on the page. Closing the box and moving it out of the way the attendant looked over the information. "Let's see Alexander Caven, human, sixteen, correct?"

Alexander nodded as the man tapped the counter, "Necromancer? Don't see those every day."

Alexander felt a bit of sweat trickle down his temple, this thing told of his magic? Oh shit! Did he need to get out of town again fast?! The man behind the counter chuckled watching Alexander sweat before laughing, "Don't sweat it kid, little wonder you came to Tress with that reaction, lemme guess, discovered your magic early on and got shipped off before your friends could burn you as a witch?"

The man chuckled and shook his head, "Backwards bastards. Black magic, or necromancy if you prefer being fancy, isn't a prohibited vocation here, least as long as you don't go robbing city graveyards or unleashing zombie hordes on villages. Keep it to personal bodyguards or pets and no ones gonna bitch you out. Won't say you won't get alot of stink eye but the guards aren't gonna round you up. This is Tress kid, magical kingdom at its finest. As long as you're not being an insane jackass we don't care what magic you use, it's all fair use."

Pulling out a stamp and some wax he made the document official then whispered a quick spell, the parchment folded up as the seal glowed turning into a much more manageable card of a purplish black hue. "That's one whorl, if you lose your identification card its fifteen whorls to have a replacement issued. As a level one scrub yer stuck doing yellow rank missions. Get missions from the board there, bring the subject and card back to the receptionist over there. If you have any class questions, our resident black art liaison is stationed by the city graveyard, name of Khorl Blackash, he catches you doing shady shit in his domain you better hope all you get is a dirt nap. Alright, yet set, head on. NEXT!"

Alexander blinked as he was practically frog marched out of the way staring down blankly at the dark card in his hands. Focusing his intent on it he felt it react like the dungeon system status.

========================

Name: Alexander Caven

Race: Human

Age: 16

Sex: Male

Class: Level 1 Necromancer

Titles: None

Warrants: None

Affiliations: Colter Adventuring Guild Yellow Rank

========================

Alexander looked it over slowly flipping the card back and forth, why were there no stats shown? If he leveled there should be some increase other than basic level scaling of his class. By the same token he was rather glad it didn't catch his path choice, though that would likely be because they didn't have paths here right? Pocketing the card he wandered over to the mission board and found his next greatest hurtle. The language. People spoke the same dialect as him which was great but the alphabet was distinctly different.

Frowning he held his hand out and focused his magic whispering under his breath... 'Translate.'

Waiting a moment he cracked open his eye and saw no notification, though he did see a young woman nearby giggle at him for standing before the board with his hand stretched out like a god damned idiot. Sighing to himself he wondered what he had done wrong? Was information not a part of the death school? Still, like the [Create Slime] should it not have given an error message? Looking every bit a fool before the board. Covering his eyes he did his best to hold in his indignation. But what could he do? Ask for assistance and be mocked?

Rubbing the bridge of his nose he suddenly lifted his head. If he couldn't translate the paper, could he alter himself? Slowly covering his eyes with his gloved skeletal hand he focused his magic and released. Gritting his teeth he felt like he had just dashed scalding hot water in his eye balls! Keeping from crying out a notification appeared in his head...

Death Spell [Eyes of Translation] Learned!

Tress Title earned: Metamorph

Class Advancement: Level One Blood Mage gained

Class Advancement: Level One Necromancer +1%

Keeping his eyes closed he waited for the burning sensation to ease before carefully opening them, the world he now viewed was tinged in red and he absently wondered if his eyes were similarly colored? Still, through the red hue the papers before him could now be read. Breathing slowly his eyes itched like nothing else as he read over the notices. As was to be expected yellow rank jobs were little better than daily chores and odd jobs. Find a missing pet, fetch basic healing herbs, aid the local guards barracks clean up. Frowning at the board he looked over each notice again, there had to be so nothing better right?

"So, you DO have some talent eh?"

Glancing to the side he saw the young woman who had giggled at him before standing closer looking at him, like the rest of Tress' population she was rather dark skinned, almost to the point one could wonder if she had been doused with a bucket of ink. She was dressed rather modestly but had a large blade strapped to her back. Her dark brown eyes watched him rather intently. Alexander swallowed slowly and offered a smile, "I have my moments."

The girl laughed and slapped him on the shoulder, the force of the blow nearly sent him flying sideways and he swore inside that his arm was likely black and blue from the somewhat good nature strike, "Ha! Well you look like a new blood foreigner so since I don't feel like scraping out the guilds latrines again I just wanted to see if you wanted to team up and get a real job?"

Alexander looked rather skeptical, "Why me?"

She grinned, her pearly white teeth a distinct contrast against her rich dark lips, "Hey you looked like you could use a buddy! I mean you were having troubles with the notices right but now your eyes are all fucked up, you did something to yourself didn't you?"

Alexander instinctively reached towards his eyes and sighed, "I'm not familiar with the language so I modified my eyes to translate for me, originally wanted to have it done magically but apparently my power prefers a more natural source."

The woman nodded briskly, "So you're a blood mage eh? Handy that! Come on join up with me and I'll show ya how to kick the shit out of yellow rank alright? Names Laytalya by the by, pleasure to meet you..."

"Alexander." He reached out to take her hand looking into her brown eyes as his fingers slid over her smooth digits, lifting them to his lips and kissing the back of her knuckles, "Enchanted."

Laytalya gave off another giggle tugging her fingers free of his hand and clutching it to her chest, "Well now, talented and flirtatious, I think me and you will get along great Alexander..."

Alexander smiled closing his eyes and willing the spell to end, "So what's this mission you talked about? I'm not seeing much on this board."

Laytalya laughed, "Couse not, that's the solo board, not gonna get anything good on that board level until your rank is high. Naw for scrubs like us we need a party board. I found this neat little goblin raid mission for just outside of town. Between your magic and my blade, a few snot nosed green skins should be a cake walk. You're in right?"

She looked hopefully at him and he smiled, "Sure killing some scumbags is right up my alley I think."