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 · Fantasy
Not enough ratings
201 Chs

Only His Sense

Morne tried to stand, but it was difficult considering he was amidst a jumble of elf limbs and armor.

The Runner stepped forward, as if knowing that Morne was vulnerable, and its mouth opened wide as saliva dripped down from its teeth in thick ropes.

With no warning other than the fraction of a second it bent its limbs, coiling its body like a spring, it leaped forward, claws outstretched and tongue hanging from its mouth as it imagined tasting Morne's flesh.

Morne rolled aside and snatched a shield off of the ground, blocking a second attack by the skin of his teeth but too slow to block the third. The mutant's claws shredded through the armor on his stomach, turning it as black and corrupted as the darkness around them.

Its next attack came less than a second after the third, ripping chunks of Morne's cheek off, then the fifth arrived, hooking into a gap in his armor made by the previous Runner Morne had fought and tugging.