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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

Immovable Object, Unstoppable Force

Just as the goblin commander was within the center of their formation, so too was the Illusion Dryad surrounded on all sides by her elf brothers.

However, Morne and Essenla made a beeline for her anyway, knowing that they needed to kill her if they wanted a chance at victory.

The elves at the edge of the formation sneered at the incoming humans and pivoted, pointing their spears at them and forming a dangerous wall that any normal warrior would have trouble getting past.

But Morne and Essenla were not normal warriors.

"Like the wind," Essenla uttered, her Spell filling her limbs with speed as she pulled ahead of Morne, shifting into a mad dash for the elves.

At the same time, Morne pulled the six remaining tibia bones out of his pocket, his mouth working fast as he cast Apprentice Spell after Apprentice Spell.