Sympathetic nodding. "Yeah. Going back into the room with the necromancer in it is a lot less scary knowing you will do it if necessary, though. Appreciate that about you even though I really hope you do not have to." 

"Well, I'm glad I could give you that, at least." Jojo rubs the back of his neck. "My divine powers have been coming in... atypically. I'm pretty sure I won't get to be immune to fear. So I guess I'd better be brave on my own."

Immune to -

Hob stares at Jojo for several seconds, recontextualizing that thing Jojo said about paladins and fear with respect to Aribeth a while back. 

"....huh. Well, you do seem very qualified to do that. Do you think you're going to end up with something else similar? Immunity to... anger... or something?" 

"If I did, I think it would've happened by now. My spells came in, and they're supposed to come after. So... whatever it is, it's something I didn't notice."

"That'll happen. In retrospect I'm almost certain I had my thing for like twenty-six years before I realized." 

Jojo smiles a little slyly. "Some people do go twenty-six years without dying even once."

"Only rarely, in your line of work," the Reaper points out.

Delighted cackle. 

He is a little tempted to counter that his record is probably at least, like, sixty, but he's not actually sure he didn't sleep off at least one counterfactual death by liver poisoning somewhere in the early 1600s and anyway he is still at least mostly succeeding at not outright admitting to anyone here that he is not a number of years old it is physically possible for a human to be, even if the people who can see through his soul have probably figured it out. 

"Thrice in two days really is way worse than usual, I swear. The problem is there's all these evil wizards, see."

Speaking of which! How inconveniently unexploded is the necromancer who last saw them subjectively zero seconds ago? 

As it happens, she's pretty badly off. One side of her has withered unpleasantly, leaving her in a sort of Two-Face situation.

She's still got that shiny scimitar, though, and she starts casting something while Jojo flees at lightning speed.

Okay, take #4021 or some shit, live, no take-backs this time. 

Hob's mental picture of her exact location relative to him has drifted in memory over time but not by that far. He was in melee range before and he's in melee range now and he promised Jojo he'd run if it seems like a lost cause after he first does his best to be an attention-getting threat for at least the duration of her trying to cast one spell. "Whatever that is, stop it," he snarls, swinging as hard as he can.