I Became The Necromancer Of The Academy Novels & Stories

My wolf demanded his blood, instantly. This was excellent evidence to go after the werelions. Assad was the reason my little princess got hurt. So help me goddess, he will pay. My hands remained fisted for the rest of the footage. In order for a human to become a necromancer, he had to delve into the dark magic and, of course, give up something to seal his deal with a Grim Reaper. Chances were that this necromancer had no heart. I was smoldered with resentment, but I mastered my anger to keep watching the unfolding.

My reflection in the glass didn’t look like mine at all—my eyes glowed faintly, my lips parted as though whispering a name I didn’t remember learning. The wards trembled. The Academy was stitched together with old magic, its bones laced with the founders’ blood, its heart bound by runes carved into the earth itself. I could feel them now, those invisible threads, wrapping around towers and classrooms, dormitories and hidden stairwells. They quivered under the storm’s weight. And under me. My hand pressed against the glass, and in the flash of lightning, the glass spiderwebbed with cracks. The door behind me opened with a low groan.

I couldn’t stop it. Before he could move, two figures moved instantly. Jace and Kieran, the other two, rushed forward. They had been standing among the students, watching everything unfold. The moment they reached us, they understood. A ripping sound echoed through the hall. The sleeve of my academy uniform split apart as something beneath my skin struggled to break free. Another tear followed across my shoulder. Kieran removed his academy jacket and covered me immediately, hiding my changing body from the crowd. “Maelis, look at me,” he said.

“Say what you came to say.” Varian tilted his head. “The dead want you, brother. They want their Alpha back.” The ground shook. From behind the heirs’ army, the snow split. Bones clawed their way up. Old armor rattled. Wolves with matted fur and glowing red eyes pulled themselves from the earth. Necromancy. On a scale Malric couldn’t have dreamed of. A hundred undead stood between the heirs and the gates. Ryn cursed. “Gods, I hate magic.”

Cornered by the intensity of his feelings, he appeared to despise himself for being the slave of passion and quelling the dark tyranny of despair, he gazed up at the soaring dragon which seemed to be on a rampage burning everything in sight while Jeremy and Morbius evaded its attacks. Taking in a deep breath he redirected his gaze back to evelyn gently placing her on the ground, it seems he was going to result to using a forbidden power that had almost killed him as a child, necromancy. It didn't matter to him, he was willing to do and take any risk to protect Evelyn.

He tumbled along the ground and stopped motionless, lying like a broken doll. “No!” I didn’t even realize at first that it was me who had cried out. Was he dead? No, his soul wasn’t flying away! And even if it was, I would get it back. I was a necromancer, dammit. Rage and desperation flashed inside me, and my other half got the upper hand. Instead of banishing the devourers with my necromantic power, I immolated them with a stream of scorching flames. It didn’t really matter anymore, though.

I walked to his chamber and hazily saw my son's half naked body in the mist of the diamond barrier. "Milios...My son Milios come back" I whispered to myself. If not for that necromancer, my son Aimilios the crown prince will not be in this state! That necromancer putted a curse on me. My mana was reversed! everytime I will use magic it affects my body. With this tragedy my children had sacrificed so much. That's why I had to disown that clown and send that skillful knight with him to find the necromancer. I know the necromancer is just near that academy. Maybe it's time to remind Cyrvian about the real mission to accomplish in that school.

Perhaps she is finally seeing that she doesn’t have to hide anymore. I know shadows, darkness, and death have always been a part of my life. I’ve never feared any of it. I’ve used the shadows and darkness to hide in plain sight when I’m on missions. I command the shadows to teleport me where I want. I can manipulate them to bend to my will. I'm a necromancer. I play with death by stopping people from dying, bringing them back to life if necessary, and even taking their life. My ability as a necromancer allows me to remove souls directly from their bodies. It’s why I get the complex missions.

Ramses said with a dramatic huff, shaking his head in exasperation. I held up a hand, forestalling Ramses' impending lecture. "It's not what you think," I began, my tone measured. "The Necromancers were scavenging the dead from our lands, raising them back up. I got tired of it and made an alliance to prevent it." I paused, studying Ramses' expression.

He began to crawl further into the darkness, feeling the path the voice wanted him to follow. As he crawled, a strange feeling invaded his battered body. He felt as if he were near a fire that caused damage without heat. Again, he felt that he must remember something, but he didn't know what. -"Lord of the Necromancers" Her back arched violently as a thousand stars exploded in her broken mind. The scattered debris fell inward, glowing, incandescent. "I am a Necromancer. I am… the Lord of Necromancers." His mouth was not used to uttering sounds and the words came out hesitantly.