A Bored Lich
"Screw magic, I want to learn how to do cool flips and stuff." Magic is awesome, until you've studied it for centuries. Doevm reincarnates into a human to experience the path of a fighter to its fullest and swears not to rely on magic. There is only one problem, a goddess stands in his way. She pits him against both the hero and the villain for all of eternity. How will he escape this, with magic or his fists? Maybe both? -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------(Sorry about the spacing. Webnovel doesn't let me use enter) Winner of contest #110. I upload three chapters a week. Each chapter has word count around 1000+.-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------Link to my discord: https://discord.gg/tHaceja ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------While I am an experienced writer, I do make mistakes. Don't be afraid to say you don't understand something or point out an error in grammar. I read all comments. There are naturally some things I won't say. For example, if some says there's an inconsistency and I don't address it, it's probably there for a reason.
Regret
Frey froze. Time marched on. 'I'm sorry Elero. I don't know what to do.' He thought. His indecision determined his decision
His vision flashed gold, and the cold night air swept past him. Whatever maneuver Alexander had enacted upon him, it was a little slower than the previous instances. The only reason he knew this was because he was able to peek out one of his eyes amidst the flash of gold and, in that brief moment of vision, he found himself high above the clouds. His eyes immediately watered up and closed.
'We are going to die.' Before he had even finished the thought, everything came to a stop. Solid ground tapped the bottom of his boots. Frey's knees buckled from the strain and he nearly faceplanted in surprisingly rich dirt. His hands and knees sunk a half an inch in the dark soil. Thomas didn't fare much better than Frey. The noble clutched at his stomach. A suppressed groan escaped his throat. Alexander walked past them with a hand on his sword.