Starlight Necromancer

Foster slowly pushed open the wooden door leading into the cabin, causing it to creak loudly. He walked over to the table that him and Thiodrus sat at together just yesterday, offering the other two chairs to the archer and the swordswoman.

"Erm... do you two wanna drink something?" He asked with a wry smile, unsure what to say exactly, but the other two simply stared at him silently.

"Right... Erm... Should we start with some basic introductions?" Foster suggested, but once more, he was only met with silence, "Alright, sounds good. Then I guess I'll start us out. I'm Foster, I'm 23... I like working out, I've recently started picking up comic-books because work has been pretty boring... I'm from another world, and just arrived yesterday in the early morning. Oh, and I'm really, really into anything related to space, planets and stars, that kinda thing."

The swordswoman let out a deep sigh, still tightly holding onto the handle of her sword, "I'm Joyce, 25, currently A-Rank and part of the Golden Kobold guild. I like swords, swords, and swords. That's it."

"My name's Aaron, I'm 87, and also currently an A-Rank within the Golden Kobold guild. I like forests, animals, and silence."

"Eh?" Foster let out confused, hearing that Archer's introduction, "Did you just say you're 87? You look younger than me, the hell're you talking about? Did you mean to say 17 or something..? Is it the language barrier..?"

"What, no, you moron, I'm a Half-Elf." Aaron replied with an annoyed expression, while Foster stared back with a wry smile, "Elf..? Holy shit, seriously..? That's kinda cool, we don't have you guys in my world. I mean, we know of you, kinda, but Elves aren't actually real there."

Aaron was perplexed after hearing Foster's words, "Wait, what? How is that supposed to be possible?!"

"Dude, don't ask me. All I know is that 'Humans' are the only species of people around. I mean... I hope, I'm starting to believe that all those rumors of Lizard-people are real..."

"You have Lizardfolk, but you don't have Elves? Are you kidding me?!" Aaron yelled out, seemingly quite upset over this information, and Foster looked back at him nervously, "Sorry dude, that's just how it is, it's not my fault. Also, that was more like a joke... We don't have Lizard...folk... I think at least. Anyway, that's not important. All that's important is that I'm not from this world, I appeared here yesterday, and Thiodrus was the first person that I met. Can you two at least tell me why you had to... kill him?"

Foster crossed his arms in a melancholic manner. He didn't really know Thiodrus at all, he only spoke to him for a few hours. At the end of the day, he was a stranger. And while Foster was certainly upset over the fact that such a kind man had been killed... Thiodrus had most likely accepted his death long ago. Foster wasn't close enough to him to enact some kind of revenge because he's been killed, especially if Aaron and Joyce had a good reason for their actions.

Joyce and Aaron looked at each other for a moment, "For now, let's believe that you really are an Otherworlder..." Joyce said, "Let's go over this for now. Here in this world, there are those beings that held so much power and malice toward the living that they cause immense chaos. To the extent where they're comparable to a natural catastrophe. We call those beings 'Calamities'. And Thiodrus Argomna was one of those Calamities. People tried to fight him, but then he suddenly disappeared. Over the years, he was tracked down to this place, where he erected a barrier. Some invaded that barrier, and while many never came back, the ones that did reported that Thiodrus was getting weaker."

"...He mentioned something like that. That the tree was corrupting him, and he was growing weaker." Foster explained, "At first I thought the 'corruption' was what turned him into that skeleton, but..."

"Thiodrus was like that long before he came here. He was a Superior Lich, a powerful Undead mage. But nevermind that." Aaron explained, before continuing to speak instead of Joyce, "The three of us searched for this place and came here to kill Thiodrus. It... was a bad idea, we knew, but... If he was getting weaker, and a B-Rank was strong enough to get back, then us three A-Ranks should have been able to take him out. And in the end, we were right. We did take him out. And then you came, and ruined everything. If you hadn't been there, we could have left by now, and everything would be fine!"

Aaron jumped up, hitting his hands onto the table. The small flowerpot in the center of the table fell over, touching Foster's hand. It was cold, basically enough to give him frost-burns, "I know that you're upset at me, and reasonably so, because of me your friend died, but... He probably would have died anyway. Thiodrus was holding back that tree from becoming whatever it was supposed to become. If you had just killed him without letting Thiodrus get rid of the tree altogether, it would have turned into those creatures and probably even worse, and most of you would have died. If Thiodrus was so powerful, then the thing that he dedicated his life... or rather, afterlife to hold back must be even more horrible. Right?"

"I-" Aaron glared back at Foster, seeing his serious expression. In the end, he realized that Foster was probably right, and dropped back down onto his chair, "Fuck..." He let out with a loud groan, pressing his hands onto his face.

"He... Simon, he was our friend... Why did..." Aaron cried out, while Foster awkwardly scratched the back of his head. He definitely felt bad. If Foster hadn't hit Simon like that, then he might've been able to dodge that sludge.

"In the first place..." Joyce started, "How were you able to get Simon like that? And why would you hold his head over... that?"

"Well, I fucking had to hit him because I was pissed off that he literally killed my friend, and the rest was scare-tactics. You think I want to kill people? Fuck no." Foster replied in a blunt voice. Joyce was still confused, "How can you call someone like Thiodrus your friend, even after knowing what kind of being he was..?"

"Huh? Ah, I mean, I've been around horrible people my whole life. I'm not a particularly good person either. He was nice to me, and helped me out, so why wouldn't I call him a friend? Shit, he healed my body, gave me food, clothes, a bed to sleep in, and even did something so that I can understand you. That bolt he shot at my shoulder? Yeah, that was some kinda magic. I think it said the... 'Translate' spell would be permanently applied to me, and then I started understanding and speaking Argian. That's what it's called, right?" Foster explained to them, "He did so much for a stranger from another world, so how could I not even call him a friend in return?"

Joyce, who had placed a hand onto Aaron's back to comfort him, although barely holding back her own tears, looked back at Foster with a light smile, "We... we work in this sort of business. At the end of the day, it's not your fault that Simon died. In the first place, we came prepared for it. We both know that you tried to help Simon out in the end. But... How were you able to survive falling in that sludge that immediately killed Simon..?"

Foster scratched the back of his head. He himself was unsure about this already, "Erm... I guess it's because of a 'Title' I have? One of my titles is 'Otherworlder', and the other is... Well, when I came to this world, I fell from that mountain, nearly died, but then the 'system' tried to connect me to the 'Archaic Records', and repaired my body and mind. And in return, I was given the title 'He who is one with death'." Foster explained, and both Joyce and Aaron were listening attentively, "And when I fell in there... The title's effect was shown to me, and it was 'Necromantic Invincibility'."

"I... I see..." Aaron muttered, rubbing the last of his tears out of his eyes, "That would explain it. That stuff immediately made Simon's body rot, like immense magical feedback. If you're immune toward necromantic feedback... it makes sense."

"Magical feed-what?" Foster asked with a wry smile, and Aaron groaned loudly, "Magical Feedback. Why, what's your term for it?"

"Err, iunno, we don't have magic..."

"You what..?" Aaron let out surprised, "You don't have magic in your world? Then how are you even alive? You-"

"Listen dude, we could probably keep this up for a while. We just don't, aight? Let's just keep it at that." Foster suggested, interrupting Aaron, "So just treat me like I know nothing about whatever you're talking about, because I don't. What's Magical Feedback?"

Aaron was already annoyed with the way that Foster was talking, so Joyce explained in his stead, "I don't know much about it myself, but magical feedback is... well, just that. The feedback to using magic. It's not a big deal with lower-leveled magic, but starting at around... fourth or fifth level I think, if you're not careful, you can experience 'magical feedback'. In the case of necromancy... Your body basically starts to slowly rot away. That's why many powerful necromancers end up turning into Undead themselves, because that rot won't matter at all. And if you were to be immune to an element's feedback, then you..."

"You'd be able to become probably one of the most powerful mages specializing in that element."