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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

Crown, Part 5

Tears of blood fell from the Boknul's eyes like rain as the whites of his eyes turned crimson.

A flood of Chimh tore apart his crown like a rickety house in a tornado, sending shrapnel of bone and scales everywhere. Morne and Geleb shielded their faces, suffering minor cuts and scrapes as the weaponized defense blew past them.

All the while, the Chimh continued building around the Boknul, gathering for a grand crescendo that would decimate his enemies in one fell swoop. But what he hadn't accounted for was the pain.

The shards of scale and bone had avoided him entirely, but that didn't mean he had escaped unharmed. The bloody tears streaking down his face weren't just for show, his flesh was being shredded from the inside out and blood was gushing from every pore on his body.

He howled in pain and rage, the sound soon becoming a primal roar that sounded like sandpaper scratching on gravel as his vocal cords were torn apart.

All the while, the Chimh never stopped.