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Heretic Mage: Rise of the Dark God’s Necromancer

Death. Servitude. Submission. That was all Morne had known for the past eight years. Everything he had known and loved had been taken from him, and it was his fate to be a slave, passed around from master to master like a disgusting disease no one wanted but everyone received. Soon after, a demon with a tantalizing promise appeared. "I’m here to Anoint you," the demon whispered. "My lord, Jiklok, has deemed you a mortal worth keeping an eye on. And I have another offer as well." The demon offered Morne a path to the power he had lacked in life, a way to seize his own destiny. Necromancy. The things he asked for in exchange seemed... small in comparison. Using his newfound necromantic powers, Morne would inflict on those who did him wrong all he had suffered and more. Those who had destroyed his village would be slaughtered beneath waves of undead, those masters who had sold and traded him like cheap wares would be forever bound to Morne's service, just as they had bound him. He would be his own master. Death. Servitude. Submission. ...... No MC harems are to be found here. If you need that kind of stuff in a story, you won't like this. Currently dropped. If you like this book, consider checking out my other ongoing book. It's called "Crown of Nightmares: Banished to Hell For My Bloodline!"

Lolbroman25 · Fantasy
Not enough ratings
201 Chs

Patched Up

Morne and Essenla sat in a room within the Mother Tree. It was as brown as one would expect, and the only furniture inside was a wooden table that grew from the tree floor.

Essenla was being examined by Anhela, the resident healer of the village.

The elf had an exhausted air about her, with dark green bags under her eyes that marred her natural beauty and the signature green and brown sleeveless robes of a Dryad.

Still, she did her duty diligently. After pricking Essenla's wrist with a rigid pine needle – between her glove and the sleeve of her leather armor – the elf brought the damp needle up to her face and closed her eyes.

She muttered words too low for Morne to hear, and the blood on the needle's tip started to glow. When the glow dimmed back to nothing, she opened her eyes with a worried look.