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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 · แฟนตาซี
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201 Chs

Contained Storm

At that moment, as goblin blood coated Morne's armor and goblin flesh was skewered beneath his spear, he started to feel…

Hungry.

It had been over two weeks since he had last fed his plant-heart blood, but in that time, he had also been in many battles where he had lost quite a lot of blood. Some of that was Scarlet Sacrifice, but most of it was the handiwork of the Runners.

This was something he had noticed when he used Dark Pulse earlier, but he had shelved the problem temporarily to focus on the much bigger concern of being rotted from the inside out.

But now…

Morne let go of his spear, which was currently embedded in a goblin's armored chest, and grasped outward without even looking.

His fingers clenched around the mouth of a goblin, thorns sprouting through his palm and locking the two together as he lifted the poor creature up as easily as he would a newborn baby.