Solo Necromancer Novel Novels & Stories

Page after page of the Grimoire opened by itself, the pages moving quickly as if enchanted. Even more frightening was the dark mist that appeared with the opening of the Grimoire. "Congratulations, Luna. You have reached the end of the game," the familiar voice echoed. It came from the Grimoire, the voice of the seventh reincarnation that had previously inhabited Rafe's body. "So this is what he's after?" I muttered to myself. I had wondered why the werewolf man had stopped appearing, and now I had the answer. He was preparing this evil plan.

Inside, the air felt colder. Thicker. Like every book here breathed a little on its own. Some were chained shut with silver locks. Some had covers made from materials I didn’t want to guess at—scales, bone, darkened velvet. Alaric reached for one specific volume. Thick. Heavy. Black leather with a sigil embossed on the front: a circle surrounding a cracked mirror. “This,” he said quietly, “is the kingdom’s only known complete record on necromancy.”

His ultimate goal required an army of zombies that kept growing at an exponential rate, until there were so many that nothing could stand before them. At present, any bodies he reanimated were clumsy, slow moving creatures, but once he fully destroyed the seal, he expected that to change. Long dead corpses would always be slow, but the more recently deceased should be capable of moving almost as fast as living humans, making them far more dangerous. He wished he could have reached this level of success a century ago, before the armies of the world became so mightily armed with modern weapons of destruction. He was still learning back then, though, and he hadn’t had the black waziri to aid h

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.

The light of that ring grew brighter and brighter, and soon it caught even Red Rose’s attention. “What’s that mad man up to this time?” the Barbarian Primogenitor wondered as she smashed another Wind Demon into the ground; however, she had barely conceived the thought when the ground around her began to tremble. “I will show you why Necromancers are regarded as Dark Earth Hybrids. Stand, Blood Golems.”

She smiles as she is taken in amazement and fascination once more towards the grand library that stands with its fresh and finest beauty that is already standing with its glory right from the very beginning, and unto the first loop. “Calling for death.” Taken by the words that Jane just utters as she flips the pages of the book that she finds after falling right in front of her. She watches carefully as curiosity gets the better of her and flips the pages down to the specific chapter she reads. “The Necromancer.” Fully knowing who it is as she immediately looks at the book that she is holding, with the conviction and strengthen ideology that it was the same one. She walks forward, yet just e

Reproduction, nutrition and an extremely strong territorial behavior. With these first descendants, Doctor Christopher Krynick had created the monsters that now flooded the world and that still pose a threat to every single being on this planet today, almost two decades later. Proles had no natural enemies. They were bigger, faster and stronger than me. Their natural relatives and besides, they felt the need to mate with everything, just kept still long enough. Therefore it was hardly possible to master this plague and it was still questionable which of us would survive in the end. They or we?

He wielded his sword and struck the man dead in one go, dividing his body into half and the blood splashing on his face which he wiped away with satisfaction. It was less than an hour ago they got to hear from the witch after Kyle had tortured her in his own way and she began to spill everything. It was obvious that the witch also needed their help as much as they needed hers and she had talked about a sacred book and how the Blackburn are connected to it. To think that there has been a prophecy which existed for a long time that will bring an end to his immortality makes him even mad and the reason the Nightbloods had gone into hiding only to come out when the time is right makes him want t

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.