The Iron-blooded Necromancer Has Returned Novels & Stories

Chapter Seven: The Girl in My House Ivy had never seen a house this big. She stood just inside the Sterling mansion, her small bag hanging from her shoulder as her eyes wandered across the enormous living room. Everything looked expensive—the polished marble floors gleamed under the soft glow of crystal chandeliers, the furniture was plush and elegant, and massive paintings adorned the walls in ornate gold frames. She felt small and out of place, like a visitor in a world that didn't belong to her.

"That nonsense. Who has any idea what it means?" Soartin opened his mouth in response, but it was Cenam who spoke, his voice bitter, and his tone, baleful. "Blood Blessed." It wasn't until the mist thinned before them that anyone spoke again. And when the voice spoke, it was no surprise that it was Takaris. "From here," he began with relief, "we return to the seminary, register in the cathedral, and can be free of this war." Sethlzaar shook his head solemnly. "That will not be happening."

His eyes, too, were dark with driven purpose and malice. He wore a vaguely military outfit of dark purple tunic and leggings. Then Ruslan noticed there were other men in the hall too. They stood stiff like a stone by the walls. They were garbed in flowing grey robes which gave them a clerical air. Yet power and magic seemed to emanate from them in waves so palpable, Ruslan could almost touch it. After one long look at those strange people, he knew he would much rather face the Groundsler. "So," said the man in the purple robe, rubbing the beast's hideous head as he gazed at his captive, "I have heard that my dear daughter is back, is that true?"

Matteo Romano. He rose from the shadowed corner, towering, broad-shouldered, his black suit tailored with the precision of a king in exile. His face was carved in lines of command: sharp jaw, straight nose, lips that could give orders like death sentences. But it was his eyes that froze the blood in her veins. obsidian, fathomless and unreadable. Il Re di Ferro. The Blood King. Whispers rippled through the hall like wind through dry leaves. No one expected him here. No one dared to speak his name too loudly.

As his words echoed across the battlefield, the army responded, rising from the ground with a synchronized precision that was nothing short of terrifying. Magic swirled around the corpses, dark tendrils of energy wrapping around their bodies, stitching them together with a malevolent force. Veyra could feel the magic in the air, thick and heavy, like the weight of the world pressing down on her chest. It was necromancy at its worst, an abomination that should have been impossible, and yet, here it was.

Just like the land of Dystopia, the Blood City is also believed to be the place of dwellings of the Necromancers during the ancient times before it was turned into a wasteland after the war. Furthermore, Professor Sonny also learned some inside information about the place. It was said that somewhere within the midst of that wasteland called Blood City lies a secret that had been buried together with the annihilation of the practitioners of necromancy It was said that an Ancient Goblet can be found in that place and that Ancient Goblet was believed to be used by the necromancers during their sacrificial offerings. If Professor Sonny could get his hand over that item, then he could be able to

Then, I turned around. I saw him standing with a deadpan and impassive expression on his face in the periphery, out of my cloak, and a few meters away. I had a glance-over with the beast, his face unreadable, fire cracks on his face were that of neon crimson fire, his eyes extraterrestrial grey. It looked like he was trying to dig a hole in my head with his gaze. I lost my focus for a second. This caused the ebbing of the strength of my cloak, and that was enough for Marcellus to use it to penetrate my protective field with necromancy. My lilac shield started to break and crack under the force of his black magic. The swirling dust of his necromancy mixed with neon blue electric zaps encircle

Their mouths gaped, sewn shut with thread that glowed faintly, trapping centuries of screams. They had once been warriors. Wolves. Mages. Leaders. Banished, betrayed, erased. Now, they belonged to me. A figure emerged from the skeletal trees. He was tall, draped in rotting velvet that reeked of earth and decay. His face was hidden by a jagged mask fashioned from bone. The Necromancer. “You summoned me,” he rasped, his voice grating like stone on stone. “You know the price.” I rose to my feet, my shadow stretching across the poisoned earth in ways no living thing’s should. “I’ve already paid.”

He chose a necromancer over his family. This selfish and deranged man wanted to take my powers for himself. I was already afraid but some thing terrified me more. This necromancer had black magic to bring back dead people, she was definitely going to kill me. I was in fact l was already a dead person. Dead man's blood was already coursing through my blood.

’ ‘Now I prepare for war’ The voice was deep and very dark, not Sirius but the power inside him, and Anders stepped back not sure what to do or say, ‘Is that you, Sirius?’ ‘I am here Anders, we are one now, it is our power you will witness, when this is ended I will return to my rightful place with the Moon Goddess.’ Anders stepped back his face registering his shock and Sirius turned to him his eyes glowing brilliant gold, every part of him seemed to glow with the power inside him. ‘You know me, Anders.’ The deep voice said and the Beta fell to his knees bowing his head in supplication,