Evolving My Undead Legion In A Game-Like World

Chapter 1118: Awareness And Correction [3]

Michael suddenly felt slightly guilty.

"I should probably inspect everyone properly after returning."

Three hundred Epic Grade undead. He couldn't keep treating them as ordinary soldiers simply because they weren't Beginning or Lily.

Of course, if he ever needed to fully release them in the future, he had to make sure the enemies he faced didn't survive to spread the information.

Three or five Epic Grade monsters could be dismissed as luck. Revealing hundreds would paint a permanent target on his back.

In any case, the presence of those hundreds of Epic Grade undead made one thing increasingly obvious.

The battle was approaching its end. Perhaps not within the next few seconds, but the direction of the battlefield had already become irreversible.

The wolves were powerful. Their average level was higher, and their coordination was impressive for monsters.

But Michael's legion possessed almost twice their numbers, hundreds of Epic Grade existences, and the advantage of Berserk.

More importantly, every wolf that died made the situation worse for the remaining ones.

BOOOOOOM!

The six-legged black lion finally broke free from the three wolves surrounding it. One of its six legs was twisted unnaturally.

Several sections of its body had been torn open. Yet its green-red eyes remained bright.

Its enormous mouth opened as it gathered energy between its jaws.

The three wolves immediately separated, but one was slightly too slow.

A black sphere disappeared into its chest. The wolf froze. For a moment, nothing seemed to happen.

Then black branches erupted from inside its body.

PUCHI! PUCHI! PUCHI!

Dozens of metallic branches tore through flesh and scales.

The wolf collapsed. The two remaining wolves didn't even have time to react.

Five Rank Four undead descended on one. And Four attacked the other.

The black lion joined the first group.

BOOOOOOM!

Less than ten seconds later, another wolf died.

The freed undead immediately separated. Some rushed toward the nearest battles while Others responded to Michael's commands and began surrounding wolves that had already suffered severe injuries.

The effect continued spreading.

Michael's eyes flashed continuously as he monitored his legion.

He had stopped counting his own losses for the moment. Not because he didn't care. Every destroyed undead still caused a painful ache in his soul through the severed contract. But his losses had become increasingly few compared to the wolves.

Right now, his attention had gradually shifted toward something else entirely.

Hundreds of enormous wolf corpses were scattered throughout the Level 3 region. Some were completely destroyed. Others had lost limbs. A few had been crushed beyond recognition. But many were relatively complete.

After several recent realizations about himself, Michael had started forcing himself to think more creatively.

He had a bad habit. Whenever he obtained something, he liked keeping it. But the stronger and faster he grew, he couldn't deny that times had arrived where letting go was the correct choice.

Even things that had clearly fallen behind his current strength were often left untouched because Michael subconsciously believed they might become useful later.

This wasn't necessarily wrong. The problem was that his situation had changed. Michael was no longer the Rank One necromancer who needed every single undead he could get his hands on.

Michael's expression became increasingly thoughtful. His consciousness briefly entered the Mausoleum of Endless Dominion.

Thousands of undead appeared within his perception. Many of his Rank Three undead were Three-Star Extraordinary Grade creatures.

They weren't weak But Michael looked back at the battlefield and saw a Level 89 wolf corpse crash into the remains of a mountain. Its body was almost completely intact. Only its neck had been broken.

Michael looked back at his contracts.

"…"

"Why am I keeping all of you?"

The question sounded cruel.

Michael rubbed his chin in his hiding spot as his emerald eyes gradually brightened.

"If I break the contracts…"

Normally, breaking an undead contract meant losing control of the undead. For most necromancers, that was an obvious problem.

An uncontrolled undead could become hostile or escape. Depending on its intelligence, it might even remember its former master and seek revenge.

But Michael wasn't an ordinary necromancer. His class had already fundamentally altered his relationship with his undead. The ones he created remained his regardless of the contract. Even those he hadn't personally created could come under his influence.

The contract was important as it established a deeper connection for him to use his talent on them, but thanks to recent changes in his talent, he no longer needed a soul connection to evolve a creature.

Michael slowly smiled.

"…I've been wasting contract slots."

The realization struck harder than expected. He had always known that his undead remained under his control even outside the contract system.

He had used this characteristic before. Yet he had never seriously considered deliberately reorganizing his contracts on a large scale.

Why? Because there had never been a need.

Before obtaining the Mausoleum of Endless Dominion, maintaining enormous numbers of uncontracted undead would have been troublesome.

Before reaching Rank Three, high-ranking corpses hadn't exactly been falling into his hands every day, and the cost for evolving a creature to Rank Three could still be managed given his limited contract slots.

Michael also hadn't been at Rank Three for long.

This was the rank where he had reached the peak at an absurd speed and was already preparing to advance again. Before this point, Michael hadn't fully understood the extent of his authority over undead creatures.

BOOOOOOM!

Another violent explosion tore through the ruined surroundings. Michael's eyes immediately shifted.

Just as the battle involving the hundreds of ordinary wolves was rapidly approaching its conclusion, the five troublesome Level 100 wolves were finally reaching their limits as well.

And the first battle to end was, unsurprisingly, Beginning's.

AWOOOO!

The Level 100 wolf released a furious howl. Its entire body was covered in injuries. One eye had already been destroyed.

Several ribs had visibly collapsed inward, while its right forelimb bent at an unnatural angle. Yet the wolf still charged forward.