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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 · Fantasy
Not enough ratings
373 Chs

Infestation

Jay just wanted to relax his eyes, if only for a moment. After spending a few hours at the stream his energy had recovered, but mentally he felt quite drained. The stress had built up, and not knowing what lied ahead only added to it.

He had only fled from Losla for a little under two days, but to him, it felt like it was never going to end.

Now there was an itch on his arm, a nagging feeling holding him back from truly relaxing, stopping himself from feeling at ease. It would have been akin to sleeping in a bed filled with sand - an impossible task.

"Dammit. Fuck. This fucking itch!" He thought, scratching his arm.

Finally, he took off his molodus coat, ready to give his arm the scratch of its life, however...

"What the fuck?" His eyes widened, staring at his arm.

On his arm was a large sore, a bubble of flesh which had some green lifeforms in it, each of them looked like pieces of grass, about as long as his fingers.

Gazing at it closely, he prodded it.