Necromancer Lich Novels & Stories

I looked over to Dimitri. "Yes, so that means he was once a very powerful wizard. He studied necromancy and it's his greed for power is why he deliberately used rituals to turn himself into the undead. Their main goal is to have other undead creatures worshipping them, just like how Billy here seems to think he is a God or something. Liches' main goal in their undead life is to become a God," Dimitri explained. "Fair enough, but you can't blame me for what I had these clowns do to you guys - all I wanted was a bit of vampire's venom and the hair of a werewolf with high ranked blood."

With a sigh, I started, “Najak is a Lich, an undead creature who practices dark magic. Nobody knows for sure where he stays though Leo believes that he spotted him around that fortress I had mentioned earlier…it is very difficult to spot him…he lives in the dark and is literally a walking corpse that shrouds itself in a black veil. I don’t think anybody has ever seen his face. Ad this Lich has a particular hatred for us werewolves.” Hayden interrupted, “Why?”

She placed their limb bodies on an altar. The air pulsed with an eerie energy as the necromancer began her ritual, tracing patterns in the air. Whispers of ancient spells filled the room. Candles flickered as magical energies intertwined, drawing power from the void. As the chants grew louder, a ghostly light filled the room. The necromancer, acting as a bridge between worlds, reached into realms beyond death. The boundary between life and death trembled, and Lilith's body twitched as if guided by invisible forces. The necromancer's voice, with its haunting melody of ancient tongues, reverberated through the chamber.

Now he accuses the NARC of interfering in his plans even though he is fully aware that his business affairs were outlawed decades ago. He has lost all compassion or respect for the living now. Going forwards, if anyone has a chance to kill him, they will not face any charges. For those that do not know how to kill a lich, it is not an easy feat. A lich puts most of his soul into a phylactery. From the ritual that allows him to do this, he becomes virtually immortal. We must find this phylactery and destroy it before killing the lich. If we kill him before we destroy it, then he will reform in time and return. This phylactery can be almost anything, but it will be one of the few things he

He smiles as he watches the head of the clan and everyone around that room dead and bathing with their blood that put him in utmost content. He who sacrifices his very soul and is bound into the chains and clutches of that God. The master of the dead, a necromancer, and an alchemist. He who is supposed to be dead yet is alive and continues to like a cycle of a jellyfish and two. He is greeted as his very creation and façade of an older sister, replies. “As your very wish, master.”

“Not just you. Every lycan is cursed…or whatever is left, the four of you…” “Yeah…ever wondered why there were no lycans after me?” He asked, giving me a pointed look. “Because the witch cursed you all to never produce an heir” My answer did not satisfy him. Was there more to it? What was it? Why was he not telling me? “She was no ordinary witch, Celia. She was an Archmage” “What is an Archmage?” I inquired, feeling curious. “A very powerful mage who can sometimes use dark magic.” Dark magic? That indeed sounded mysterious.

"I told you they are that mean. They are vicious and lack compassion." "Are you sure they're the one?" I didn't know why I asked but something just told me that maybe another creature might do this and we won't know because we already have a suspect. "They are the one, little wolf. In the history of Lycans whenever the red moon approached, the humans come snooping because they know this is when our true nature reached its full potential. I know what they want." "To anger you?" He nodded, nuzzling into my neck to kiss there. "Don't worry, I can handle this. I have already sent out mercenaries to the human kingdom. I need Sweetbaby dead or alive."

But even as I fought, something primal surged inside me—a feral enjoyment in the battle, mixed with a desperate need to end this and take Heather home, safe. “Die!” I snarled internally, tearing through another shadow. Damon’s Lycan let out a furious howl beside me, and together we pushed forward, determined to find the source. Finally, I spotted it—the necromancer. A twisted figure cloaked in shadows, its presence felt like a black hole, pulling all light and hope into its void.

The game is on, and I’m going to remind whoever dared cross the De Luca family why I’m the Don. --- Lilith I don't like to leave traces. My tracks are always cleared even before I can say Jack. After all that was my charm, clean jobs. I am painting again. This time it is way more darker than my normal paintings. There's a darkness to each stroke. My phone suddenly rings, and I pick it up, knowing who it is,and why exactly he is calling. "Enjoying your husband's house, Lilith?" I grind my teeth at the wicked sarcasm in his tone. "Of course, father."

“Lycan, wolf—still hairy beasts with claws.” “What’s there to do?” "There’s the bond for starters, but that’s not all—she can kill the undead. Based on the investigation, the undead need to be killed in a specific way to stay dead. That doesn’t apply to her. I checked the corpses—no matter how she killed them, they didn’t rise again but remained dead”