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#ACTION
#ADVENTURE
#R18
#MAGIC
#DARK
#ANTIHERO
#NO-HAREM
#WIZARDS
#UNDEAD

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
#ACTION
#ADVENTURE
#R18
#MAGIC
#DARK
#ANTIHERO
#NO-HAREM
#WIZARDS
#UNDEAD

R18 Comfort

"Ah!"

Arelda let out a gasp as Morne picked her up and slammed her against the wall, kissing her furiously while her legs wrapped tightly around his waist.

When he pulled away, she was panting for breath, but she still threw her arms around his neck and kissed him again, their tongues coiling around each other like two slippery eels.

Morne broke off the contact and pulled her tunic off over her head, tossing it next to their boots and his pack, and admired the view in the dim light of the lantern hanging in the corner.

Arelda's perky breasts wobbled and shook with her ragged breaths, hanging over a toned belly that indicated a fierce dedication to training.

He grasped those two soft mounds, one in each hand, before diving in for another kiss.

Even though his rod steadily rose and her knees grew weak, they didn't break apart for several minutes, and when they did, they were both covered in sweat and Arelda's neck and collarbone were flushed red.