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Necrotic Call, Tomb's Whispe

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In an unassuming modern world, an ordinary teenager's life takes a chilling turn when he uncovers the scepter of the King of the Dead. This discovery inadvertently unlocks a Pandora's Box of destiny, plunging him into a shadowy prophecy foretelling global calamity. Possessing immense dark powers, he finds himself at the epicenter of a terrifying enigma, as he confronts forces shrouded in mystery and dread. Amidst an atmosphere thick with suspense, our protagonist navigates a labyrinth of fear and uncertainty. His newfound abilities, while formidable, cast a long, ominous shadow over his existence. The once-clear boundaries between reality and the unknown begin to blur, leaving him to question not only the nature of his powers but also the intentions behind them. As the narrative weaves a tapestry of horror and intrigue, readers are drawn into a world where every shadow could harbor unspeakable secrets and every decision carries grave consequences. The young hero's journey becomes a suspenseful battle against unseen enemies and his own inner demons. The true horror lies not in overt confrontation, but in the unsettling realization that some forces are beyond human comprehension. This tale is a masterful blend of psychological horror and suspense, turning the mundane into the macabre and transforming an everyday teenager's life into a harrowing ordeal. It's a story that delves deep into the human psyche, exploring themes of fear, power, and the unknown. A narrative that promises to keep readers on the edge of their seats, it's perfect for those who revel in the thrill of suspense and the allure of the unknown.

Chapter 1:All is vanity 1

A message to my readers:

I am but a humble novelist from China, eager to showcase the realm of Chinese web literature to you all. This novel is a labor of love, meticulously crafted, and it may not meet your expectations initially. Unlike the gratifying tales you might be accustomed to, I prefer to weave a narrative where our protagonist gradually matures, slowly unraveling the complexities of their world, akin to a television series. Thus, I implore you to read on with patience. Trust me, you will not be disappointed. The chapters leading up to the 51st are merely the appetizer; what follows is where the true intrigue and intellectual stimulation begin, with a touch of horror to spice things up.

The main story begins:

In the realm of magic, there exists a breed of beings who reign supreme over the common masses. With a mere flourish of their staffs, they turn rivers into torrents of blood; with a single incantation, continents become realms of phantoms. These entities defy time, wield power over life and death, and stand at the zenith of the world, subject to the fearful and resentful gazes of all.

Their power is so overwhelming that their very names have become forbidden in this world, their visages targets of universal loathing. Bereft of friends, love, and family, they forsake everything, enduring the world's ostracism. As they wander through the river of time, they leave behind lonely footprints, their proud silhouettes too imposing even for the expansive corridors of hell.

None are mightier, none more solitary, than these Necromancers.

Gutelio, the King of Necromancers, a prodigy appearing only once every three centuries in the world of magic, now stands before the Namibic Temple. He gazes smugly at Light Pope Sadeli, whose eyes are filled with terror and awe.

"The dark era of the Necromancers becomes a relic of the past from this day forth!" Gutelio declares, clutching the Cursed Scepter. His thin lips curl slightly as the scepter emits a ghastly light, its intricately carved specters seemingly coming to life, as innumerable souls wail and surge from its tip.

Suddenly, a mass of dark spirits erupts from the skull atop Gutelio’s short, five-inch scepter. This cloud of black mist emits a harrowing shriek, resonating with the curses of hell and the hatred of the undead. Any living being that hears it loses all courage and fighting spirit. The mist, like a formidable sword, pierces the heavens, as if wielding the hammer of a Titan, rending the sky asunder!

After breaking through the sky, the black mist disperses into boundless dark clouds, each cloud bearing a ghastly visage, every inch of the darkened firmament exuding a foul, deathly aura.

Beneath Gutelio's feet, the earth appears corrupted by sewage, turning utterly black as the ominous clouds spread, blotting out the sunlight. Everything withers and perishes under his feet.

Pope Sadeli, both shocked and enraged, is flanked only by Cardinals and others deeply versed in magic who can withstand this horrific necromantic power. Others, tormented by the demonic resonance, tear at their flesh in anguish, while some stand on the tainted ground, their muscles rotting into putrid slush, becoming yet another wailing spirit of this cursed land.

The once glorious and holy Mount Namibic turns into a living hell in an instant!

With a wave of his hand, Gutelio shrouds the sky in darkness; with a spell, the earth cowers at his feet.

"Supreme God above! Do not grow complacent, Gutelio!" Sadeli suddenly radiates a blinding white light, piercing through the oppressive black clouds and illuminating him.

"The Supreme God bestows upon us light, and thus we no longer fear darkness; He grants us life, and thus we no longer fear death; He awards us honor, and thus we no longer tremble in cowardice!" The surviving Cardinals around Sadeli chant the doctrines of light, their holy power continuously flowing into him.

In an instant, the holy light around Sadeli becomes dazzling, rising like the sun. A golden-armored war god, wielding a sword in one hand and a shield in the other, materializes above him, shining with golden light.

"The ultimate forbidden spell of the Church of Light, the Descent of the Supreme God…" Gutelio's face bears a solemn expression, aware that this will be Sadeli's final counter. Win or lose, Sadeli faces death, for the cost of summoning the Supreme God is one.

Death!

Upon the appearance of the Supreme God, the dense, rolling clouds of spirits scream in agony, scattering about Him, daring only to hover from afar. Coming too close, they vanish into steam, dissipating into nothingness.

The emotionless golden-armored god stands like a towering colossus, an ancient statue, exuding fearsome majesty. His eyes slightly open, surveying the land he dominates, his gaze cold and contemptuous.

"Foolish and ignorant beings, daring to challenge the dignity of the gods!" The voice of the Supreme God booms like thunder, echoing in all directions. "You shall pay the price for your folly!"

The Supreme God slowly raises His hand, the giant golden sword in the air swinging with the force of a thousand weights. As it reaches its apex, time seems to stand still, the air solidifying, and a massive pressure converges towards the glittering golden sword from all directions.

The sky churns, tearing apart thedense black clouds. The Supreme God's sword pauses momentarily before unleashing a blinding golden light, descending with ferocity towards Gutelio!

Even before the sword strikes, its overwhelming might creates a massive crater beneath Gutelio, the earth shaking violently.

The terrifying divine force descends from the heavens, causing Gutelio's body to quake violently, blood spurting wildly from him.

"Is this the power of a god?" Gutelio's eyes reflect a mix of reverence and fierce combativeness. "Once I defeat you, I shall become an existence that transcends the gods of this world!"

Gutelio bellows loudly, rapidly chanting incantations, his scepter trembling intensely. Black mists whirl around him, converging towards him like a vortex. As he absorbs what seems like an endless stream of spirits, a black armor begins to form around him, encasing him securely.

This armor, adorned with a sinister skull on the chest, glows with blood-red eyes, reminiscent of the greedy and fierce gaze of a demon from hell. From the skull's mouth, a black mist, fluid-like, continuously emanates, coiling and circling around Gutelio. Countless faces of souls and spirits flicker within this death fog.

"This, this is the Armor of Death!" Sadeli, chilled to the bone, exclaims in horror. "You are doomed to hell! You dare to use the Armor of Death!!"

Gutelio's slender frame, wrapped in the Armor of Death, is enveloped in a dense, ink-like flow of black air. Upon closer inspection, it's a shield formed of countless spirits, defending against all attacks. The Armor of Death, a creation of Gutelio's necromancy, embodies death and destruction. The more he kills, the stronger the armor becomes, with no end in sight. Now, nearly the entire continent has fallen to Gutelio, with countless souls becoming wailing spirits entwined around his armor. The emergence of the Armor of Death is marked by a shrill scream that seems to reach the farthest corners of the world.

Before Gutelio, the black fog is so dense it appears tangible. His scepter's ends morph into a colossal scythe, not made of any earthly metal or matter, yet more solid and sharp than any known material. Its blade gleams with a dark light, surrounded by spike-like ripples vibrating at an imperceptible speed, emitting a bone-chilling hum.

As the Supreme God's golden sword thunders down, Gutelio, unflinching, wields the Scythe of Death to meet it!

The sword, representing the highest power of light, cleaves the sky, thundering and crackling with electricity, its intense light obliterating all other colors! With immense force, it strikes down upon the mightiest being of the mortal realm! Behind Sadeli, at the foot of Mount Namibic, humanity's last army watches intensely, the blinding aurora of the sword filled with immense holy power, leaving no doubt of the Supreme God’s impending victory!

As the sword nears impact, they roar in unison, their voices thundering to the heavens!

Behind Gutelio stands an endless army of the undead, stretching as far as the eye can see, blanketing the land and reaching into the sky! The standoff between light and darkness is but a hair's breadth apart. These sentient undead creatures, crawling at Gutelio's feet, become his instruments of conquest. They watch his every move with equal tension, the all-encompassing holy light stirring fear and unrest among them. Gutelio’s Scythe of Death, pitch black, void of any luster, had drained the previously sky-covering black clouds and all the filth of the earth. It seemed as if all the dark forces of the world were concentrated on its three-meter-long curved blade. Gutelio raises his arm, the scythe’s blade vibrating intensely, letting out a piercing howl. It devours the air, the sunlight, everything in its path, carrying a small black orb upwards towards the Supreme God's sword!

"Boom!!"

Mount Namibic shakes like a toy violently jostled in someone's hand. Both the human and undead armies at its base ripple like waves in a field.

Dust and stones fly at the mountaintop, engulfed in smoke, obscuring all light. Everyone's eyes are fixed on the peak, awaiting the outcome of this clash between light and dark.

Suddenly, a streak of golden light pierces through the swirling smoke. The Supreme God’s golden sword bursts out of the dust, raised high, abruptly halting, frozen in mid-air as if it had never moved!

"Long live!!!"

Chapter 2:All is vanity 2

In the midst of tumultuous human armies, countless soldiers roar with all their might, their voices erupting from deep within their chests, resounding across the battlefield!

"The Supreme God has triumphed!!"

The morale of the human forces surges like a blazing inferno. They raise their weapons high, shouting "Huzzah!" as if a forest of steel has suddenly sprouted from the earth, ready to charge at the undead legions.

Amidst the undead army, despair reigns. The Skeleton King Andrel, in utter hopelessness, screams, "Gutelio has fallen! I knew the Supreme God was invincible. We are doomed!!" His cry echoes through the air like a nightmare, unsettling the already wavering spirits of the undead, causing their ranks to undulate and falter.

"Silence your foul mouth!! Gutelio is invincible!!!" Suddenly, a pristine hand grasps Andrel's withered hair. A woman with a high ponytail of black hair an

Heroes

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