A Bored Lich
"Screw magic, I want to learn how to do cool flips and stuff." Magic is awesome, until you've studied it for centuries. Doevm reincarnates into a human to experience the path of a fighter to its fullest and swears not to rely on magic. There is only one problem, a goddess stands in his way. She pits him against both the hero and the villain for all of eternity. How will he escape this, with magic or his fists? Maybe both? -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------(Sorry about the spacing. Webnovel doesn't let me use enter) Winner of contest #110. I upload three chapters a week. Each chapter has word count around 1000+.-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------Link to my discord: https://discord.gg/tHaceja ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------While I am an experienced writer, I do make mistakes. Don't be afraid to say you don't understand something or point out an error in grammar. I read all comments. There are naturally some things I won't say. For example, if some says there's an inconsistency and I don't address it, it's probably there for a reason.
Cerlius's First Day of School
A soft gong made Lance perk his head up: "I'll lead you to the classroom." He said as he led Cerlius out of his office and bedroom. Through the doorway was a hallway of other obsidian-like doors, all in the process of unfolding. Four other people walked into the hallway, all of varying degrees of adulthood and dressed in different colored robes.
Lance waited for them to go past his room before exiting. He put a hand on Cerlius's shoulder and said, "Best not to test the other instructors like you did to me. It won't end as well, for both of us." He had to whisper because no instructor was talking, not even a greeting, as if pretending not to notice one another as they marched all down the hallway.
Cerlius could tell that Lance's words were more of a warning rather than a threat by the clamminess of the three-fingered grip, shaking and weak, like being grabbed by a newborn hawk. Cerlius glanced at the instructor's other arm, which wasn't shaking at all.