webnovel

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 · Fantasia
Classificações insuficientes
201 Chs

An Empty Threat

Gram cackled, leaning against his spear as laughs shook his small frame. It took several seconds for him to calm down, and when he did, the Dryads' expressions were incomparably ugly.

"Oaths, Grommett," Gram said, still chuckling. "From Mother's Branch, it's something to take seriously, but from these pups, it's an empty threat.

"Perhaps if I gave them time to grow, Grommett, but since they've decided to be so foolish, that's simply out of the question."

The goblin's mirth vanished so fast one would doubt it was ever even there, replaced with a cold look as he raised his spear.

"Oath-takers must be killed without mercy, Grommett," he said frostily. "And these green skins are not my prisoners. I will feel no remorse killing them."

"You can try," the Dryad said confidently, her eyes turning up to the falling leaves. "But so long as the Mother Tree sheds its blessings on us, we shall not falter."