Necromancer Arcane Lineage Novels & Stories

Weyric approached quietly. “She shouldn’t have been able to do it,” he said. Elaria looked up. “Do what?” “Complete the bond. Not unless…” He hesitated. “Unless what?” she pressed. Weyric exhaled. “Unless she was more than just a healer.” Elaria frowned. “You think the bond awakened something in me?” “I don’t think,” Weyric said slowly. “I know.” He pulled a scroll from beneath his cloak, worn and dust-covered. “There’s an old prophecy—one even the Elders buried. It speaks of a healer who carries the spark of the Lost Line. A bloodline born before the packs. Before the divide.”

“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.”

“Have they been hiding their true nature from you all this time?” “I... I don’t understand.” “Some are bitten. They change later. Hybrids. Half human. Half beast. But you... you were born this way. You’re a Pureblood. A true Lycan. And your ichor, your blood, carries traits of a lineage I don’t even recognize. That intrigues me. Fascinates me. I thought I’d seen everything. But you… you’re different.” Everything around me started spinning. The forest, the sky, the leaves, all of it whirled. My stomach turned, my feet lost the ground. I felt like I was about to fall. To faint. To vanish inside myself.

She vowed to share her thoughts and feelings with her companions more openly, deepening their bonds. Kael: The arcane sorcerer, who had always been cautious with his powers, was confronted by a phantom version of himself wielding raw, uncontrolled magic. Kael understood that his true strength lay in mastering his abilities, not fearing them. He harnessed the chaotic energy and transformed it into a controlled force, unlocking a new level of power.

He wanted to see her stand on tiptoe, to reach up to him with her lips and close her big eyes bright from excitement. Although this desire did rather complicate his previous plans — to completely suck dry the girl’s anarel, depriving her of magic. But, after all, someone else might suit for this purpose. Another problem was Angelina’s magic itself. Reive still couldn’t understand what was wrong with its source. He saw the thin black spirals, evidence of the make-up of a necromancer. But greenish streaks were clearly visible intertwined between them. Yet that just couldn’t be because it didn’t exist. One person couldn’t be a carrier of two types of power. Once one path was chosen it colors th

“The truth lies in the blood. This must be about those creatures - the beasts.” Damien leaned closer, pointing to another passage. “Look here: ‘A corrupted lineage creates monsters, but only the untainted can undo the curse.’” Nicola’s heart sank as the weight of the words hit her. “My father’s work wasn’t just about protecting the lineage - it was about stopping whoever’s corrupting it. That’s why the rogue was transforming - someone’s tampering with the bloodline.” “And they’re targeting you because you’re part of the untainted bloodline,” Dylan said grimly.

Anna clicked her tongue as she cleaned the blood off and continued reading. "The witch’s power lies in the ancient rituals, where blood and... bone intertwine with the earth’s breath, binding spirit to power, will to flame and controlling the fate of the moon. Her flame is fed by trees deep in root, blood spilled and curses spoken in forgotten tongues. Her languages is that which no man understand and her spells are the yokes that binds. The beginning of the witches– Zaekyr." *Zaekyr, she died. She is the head of the witches.* Anita's voice.

“That’s terrifying.” “Yeah. And Bryon’s no better,” Lotanni added. “His bloodline specializes in body reinforcement. Turns his body into stone, pretty much. Fast and durable. Not someone I’d want in the ring.” Nyomei exhaled sharply. “And let’s not forget—they’ve got these magic abilities through charms. Royal ones. Enchanted by high-rank mages.” “Wait, that's true. I thought werewolves couldn’t use magic?” Bainer asked.

He narrowed his eyes at the title and I realized that he wasn't completely comfortable with it. “There has been war, targeting mostly Lycans. Most of the lycan clans have been destroyed. Mine is the only one still standing in the south. We don't know who these people are, they move smoothly, too smoothly. The seers say they use black magic. That's all we know” I explained. He pondered for a while, “That may explain how they moved so quickly without being noticed. I sympathize with you and your people. But what exactly do you want with us?”

“I can also smell your Lycan, powerful, primaeval and of the royal bloodline, sitting in the pits of your mind waiting to awake for the first time. She will be awakened tonight. So, to answer your question, it is not hard to put two and two together, Aralyn, especially when you are an ancient, almost primordial mage like I am. In these many centuries that passed by, I have seen it all. There are not many stones that I have left unturned and not many things that I haven’t seen. There are no many things that can surprise me, too.” “I can feel your magic, little Lycan, which originates from the two most powerful royal lineages of witches. I can sense Noosha’s and Arcanus's blood as well as the