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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 · Fantasi
Peringkat tidak cukup
201 Chs

Blade of Grass

"Sisters!" the Dryad screamed. "Help!"

The other two Dryads paused in panic, unable to continue attacking with their sister in the way.

Bending down, they grabbed onto Morne's hands and started tugging, trying to free her from his hold, but she only screamed as she felt her flesh try to tear off where the thorns were.

"Stop, stop!" she shouted, tears streaking down her face from the pain. "It hurts!"

The two Dryads frowned with anger and confusion, glaring at Morne. "Release her!" One of them demanded.

"All right," Morne replied, a cruel light flashing in his gaze.

With a great heave, thorns still embedded in the Dryad's stomach, he ripped his arms free.

A hair-raising, bloodcurdling screech pierced through the sounds of battle as two small sections of the Dryad's stomach were torn off in bloody chunks. He shoved one of the chunks into the Dryad's mouth, muffling her annoying screams, and dropped the other as he pushed her off of him.