The Death Of The Necromancer Novels & Stories

The necromancer began to rapidly age before their eyes, his skin turning dry and wrinkling before peeling away from his bones until all that was left was a skeleton, which eventually toppled to the ground with a cluttering sound. Zeke and Sébastien stared in silence at the pile of bones on the ground, both of them wondering if Gilbert was really gone for good. The necromancer had the uncanny ability to resurrect himself and they couldn't help but feel cautious about his apparent death. Hearing the voices of the three women behind them, Zeke shifted back and they turned to watch them approach.

"She couldn't speak. She could barely breathe. When I saw that... it scared me... I wanted to call a doctor, an ambulance, someone to help. She called me over, to-told me to sit down and listen carefully. She said she wanted me to promise her something before she goes..." Damien let out a sigh and wiped his tears. Ashleigh could feel tears building up in her eyes too. "She said I should promise to move on and continue being a good man... promise to live life to the fullest and not let anything stop me from doing so... be it sickness, be it poverty, be it loss, I should take it all as it comes. "I promised her I would then she... sh-she closed her eyes a-a-and that was it. She just... died...

he wondered. “I don’t know, but it was nasty,” I opened my eyes and grinned at him. “Dead now.” “Do I need to retrieve the corpse?” “Oh, no. That is on another continent,” I replied. “I killed it and opened a portal.” “Diandreliera will want to throw a feast in your honour.” “Don’t tell her I am here, then.” “You left skeletons standing in the road,” he pointed out. “Most of the city knows by now that there is a Necromancer in residence.”

I resisted the urge to give in and pushed away the fingers clawing at my mind. I looked at the other two. Both Dudley and Maurice’s movements had become stiff and slow-paced, their limbs moved as if weighted down. Their eyes were pitch-black and their faces were frozen in a grimace of stark terror. They had turned around and were coming for me, fighting to stop themselves, but unable. How was he controlling them? He was a necromancer. He couldn’t control the living only the... and suddenly it all made sense. How long had we been dead?

“Silence! Speak that word again, and you’ll hang before the castle walls.” “It’s the truth!” I shouted back. “Lady Tremaine is a witch!” His laugh was hollow. “Nonsense. Their kind is gone. And you, girl, are a liar.” “I am not a criminal,” I hissed, fists clenched though bound. “One day you will regret not believing me.” His smile was sharp, cruel. “Then I’ll look forward to that day. For now—sleep.” Pain struck the back of my neck, sharp and blinding. The world tilted, folded, and went dark.

A voice slid through my bones without touching my ears. “You were not supposed to do that.” My heart slammed against my ribs. Slowly, I turned. Nothing. Only darkness. The cold faded, but my nerves refused to settle. “That is enough horror for one night,” I muttered. I looked down. The Death card now sat in the exact center of the table. I had not put it there. The ink shifted. The word DEATH thinned and dissolved like smoke. New letters formed, slow and deliberate, as if written by an unseen hand.

He had read about them, briefly, in a paragraph and a half before they stopped mattering to the plot. Kael Dreadmourne. Eldest son. Killed in Chapter 3 alongside the household staff when the hero's vanguard purged the estate. He had two lines of dialogue in the entire novel. One of them was a scream. He got to his feet carefully, testing the body's range of motion the way a man checks a rental car for existing damage. The ribs protested. His left knee was stiff. The body was functional but not comfortable, the way inherited things often were. He crossed the room to the window and looked out.

The Witch was at her usual station, tinkering with potions, the heavy scent of herbs filling the room. "Lucian... did we—" "We won." His voice broke with emotion. "Viktor's dead. We won." I grabbed his hand. "Really?" He nodded, beaming. "Really. You've been out for a month. While you were asleep, we crushed Viktor's forces and every pack that sided with him. The borderlands are ours again." The relief lasted only a heartbeat before reality hit me. I seized his sleeve. "Why are you still here? You were supposed to go back! Don't you understand — if you missed that portal, you will never be able to return to the real world!"

Instead, the system gave me a new notification. 'This body will die in three days, so you may return to your original world then.'