Arcanist In Another World

“Maggots and worms,” the Necromancer hissed with a voice like snakes slithering over the wet, muddy ground. “Skittering through the wilds, too blind to see the path, insisting still on the old ways, flailing deep in the mud. This world needs not men like you anymore. Your false Gods lived too long in their forged peace, but the end is nigh, and it'sming for all the enemies of the Damned.”

His skin was sickly pale, paler than arpse’s, scratched hard as if he’d made a habit of using his nails on his face. The hood and the robe shaded most of his frame, but Valensuld see through his sound vision that the man had a clean pate that lacked any sort of hair.

There was a gravity to his stature, a certainnfidence in the way he carried himself. That, and thentempt with which he regarded them as if the act ofmmanding hundreds of skeletons somehow elevated his status to that of a God.

All that power and those bones. Valens felt something stir inside of him. He’d managed to claw his way up to Level 64, and already heuld see how this power was changing him. Bringing possibilities, making him think about things that would’ve never crossed his mind. Youuld do a lot so long as you had the power for it.

This man looked like he had, and he had decided to use it for purposes beyond his understanding.

It’s a matter of perspective, but he’s barely more than arpse. Why would anyone do such a thing?

“You filthy creature!” Lightmaster’s voice boomed in the cave, quieting the sounds of clashes around them. He jabbed a thick finger into the Necromancer’s face, light cascading down his back. “Your kind is the plague of this world. Parasites clung stubbornly to the lives of men, full of lust, and ambition, and chaos. Your presence serves only a single purpose, one that I gave an oath to annihilate!”

The Necromancer crackled with mad laughter at the words, blinking at the Lightmaster. “That is one high horse you’re riding on, Lightmaster! Thinking yourself all precious and radiant, walking the sacred path of a mission drilled into your mind, caring not about the truth of it. Such hypocrisy! Serving your god, have you? To cleanse the Damned off the world, you wish? You are not worthy!”

"It's wet up here, wet and damp,” came a voice, rasping with a weight so heavy that Valensuldn’t help but stare at the Undead Lich. He was shaking his head, both hands resting over his wooden cane. “There’s nothing worse than a damp cave for your bones.” He let out a weary sigh. “Isn’t that so, Chief?”

“It is, my Lord,” Hook grunted.

“Must we suffer each time that wicked witch catches one of the senseless humans with her promises? Must their kind be so foolish to believe a power of such magnitude willme without a price?”

“I’ve found that is indeed the case, my Lord. They are almost always foolish and stupid.”