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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 · Fantasia
Classificações insuficientes
373 Chs

Buying Time

~Mirror Reality 34~

Matheson nursed the warp charge, his key to freedom, gently in his lap as he watched the raging red energy furiously burn against the calm blue energy. Since getting it he spent many hours watching it, learning its ways, meditating on his thoughts. One was as deep as the ocean, the other a consuming fire—but neither claimed victory, an eternal struggle as long as it sat in the jade-green container.

The calm never quells the rage. But the rage can’t overcome it. The silent depths holds its own resilience. He thought.

But did giving up myself make me like either?

Stashing the warp charge away, Smiley gave one last glance at a drip coming from the wall. The constant tapping was unnoticable at first, but over the last few days it became louder. Every drop another poke in his mind, another shout in his ear, slowly driving him insane. He knew the tiny, insignificant droplets would either drive him forward or cause his destruction.