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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

Unabating

Essenla pierced down again, and this time nearly struck Morne's hand.

"Agh!!!" Essenla growled in frustration. "I can't see a bloody thing!"

"Try again," Morne told her. "I can't hold it down fore-."

With a bloodcurdling screech, the mutant clamped down on Morne's wrists and opened its yawning mouth wide.

A thick, viscous globule of black sludge left its throat and exploded against Morne's helmeted face.

He reeled back as some of it got into the slits where his eyes were and consequently into his eyes. A searing sensation spread across his face like it had been pressed against a hot sheet of metal, blinding him and mixing with the disgusting smells assaulting his nose to make his mind completely blank.

The Runner screeched again and took this opportunity that it had created to shove Morne off, darting toward Essenla who had the gall to try to harm it.