Only I Am A Necromancer Novels & Stories

As a question came to my mind, I suddenly felt like I was back in school so I raised my hand. "Why is your hand up in the air?" He asked me while frowning at my arm. I always forget that he didn't have a normal childhood like me. "Never mind that but what do you mean by to be able to open the book? Has the book not been opened yet?" "No, the book is sacredly sealed and is impossible to break open without the chosen one who has claimed their powers or with the blood of the chosen one. That is why it is us against the supernatural world."

A couple of minutes pass before a voice calls out, “Next! Who’s next?!” “It is Hera of the Liddicoat Kingdom,” I answer. “You plan to become a citizen here?” A young man asks with suspicion in his eyes. “Tired of all the vampires there?” “Yes,” I answer. “And maybe,” I add. “What kind of spell do you use?” “Mostly elemental spells. Potions.” “How about combat?” “Not much.”

he said pleasingly. "Get yourself together" Alpha Nolan shook him vigorously to wake his senses up. "I am not Novi. I am here for your help" he broke it to him. "My help?" he shook his head pitifully. "There is no help I can render you" he cried. "I am just a poor man living off scavenges" he confessed. "No, you're not. You are a sorcerer that makes plagues into powder form" Alpha Nolan said calmly.

Too weak. Inside, it's an absolute war zone. Shattered glass, splintered desks, and snapped chair legs are scattered across the floor. In the center of the destruction stand two monsters. The vampire is breathtaking. Liviel was right, it's a Cain Awakened. Specifically, it's Ilius Napki, a wildly famous fourth-year elite. Ilius folds his massive crimson wings, barely fitting inside the ruined room. Silver hair sweeps over rose-colored eyes as he lowers his gaze. He looks utterly aloof—an elegant, melancholic prince standing dead center in a bloody war zone.

Isolde whispered, her words dripping with a chilling finality. Elder Noble’s strength waned, and his legs gave way beneath him. He crumpled to the floor, gasping for breath, his life slipping away with every passing second. The last thing he saw before darkness claimed him was Isolde’s cold, unfeeling eyes, a silent reminder that within the coven’s shadowed depths, secrets had a way of being silenced, no matter the cost.

He swallowed uncomfortably and nodded. "Once Atticus knows for certain you're his he will destroy the others. He is a master necromancer and not of this world," he said admiringly and I eyed him oddly. What did he mean by that? I had to pry. "What does that mean?" Taking my hands into his he paused briefly before looking at me firmly.

"Especially family members." "I could forcefully enter and you won't be able to stop me, you know that right?" I got up instantly, needing to see who it was at the door. I pushed open it, coming face to face with her. She doesn't need an introduction. Camila De Luca, a.k.a Belladonna. The De Luca's only daughter and a certified psychopath at heart. In our world, she was not to be trifled with. In other words, she was worse than even me, the devil's spawn.

Liora had returned, watching my flank, her guilt bleeding into every strike. We cut through them. Until the center opened. And then I saw him. Aedric’s corpse still lay where I had left it days ago, pierced through the heart. But he stood now, behind it, reborn or reassembled, eyes hollow and wrong. Necromancy. Old. Forbidden. He smiled, lips cracked with dried blood. “You missed,” he said. I should have known death wouldn't be enough. He raised his hand, and the corpses of our fallen rose with him.

Instead, he reached out and gently touched the empty space above her head, his fingers hovering just above her hair, not quite touching, as if he were afraid that contact alone might shatter something fragile. "You're not cursed," he said softly. "And you're not immortal." "Then what am I?" His hand fell back to his side. His eyes met hers, and in them she saw something that made her chest ache with a grief she did not understand, a grief that felt somehow older than she was, older than this single night, older than anything she could name. "You're already dead," he said quietly. "You just don't remember dying." The alley seemed to tilt beneath her feet. Elara opened her mouth to argue, to d

Our players tried to stop him, but he didn’t stop. My heartbeat raced when Zack approached him from behind and attacked Kaelen. My throat tightened. Without any warning, the memories of that night rushed forward. Kaelen had cradled my remains in his arms as though I was something precious, even though there had been almost nothing left of me. Then he buried me himself. And after that... He had hunted down everyone responsible for my death. I had seen it all. Because I hadn't disappeared when I died. I remained behind.