Evolving My Undead Legion In A Game-Like World

Chapter 1144: All Out [2]

Michael controlled close to two thousand Rank Four undead. He also possessed another two thousand Rank Three undead that could still be used for reconnaissance, support, and sacrifice.

That was no longer the strength of a talented individual. It was an army. A force powerful enough to conquer many realms within the universe.

Some realms might not possess a thousand Rank Four existences even after exhausting every foundation they had accumulated over centuries. Michael alone possessed nearly twice that number.

With such strength, there was no reason for him to remain timid, no reason to pretend he was weaker than he truly was, and no reason to continue relying solely on others for protection.

He now possessed enough power to protect himself. More importantly, he possessed enough power to protect his family. That was what mattered most.

The only reason Michael still cared about maintaining a relationship with Aurora's Federation and its forces was because of the ties connecting him to this world.

Aunt Mia had lived here her entire life. Lily had friends, memories, and a future here. Their lives were rooted in Aurora. Michael could not simply abandon everything without considering what they wanted.

If he had been alone, with no one whose happiness he needed to consider, he would not have bothered negotiating with anyone. He could have entered the Origin Battlefield, established his territory, and allowed every force in Aurora to argue among themselves.

The Universal Cornerstone was his. His strength was his. His future belonged to him.

But Michael was not alone. That fact was both a weakness and the greatest reason behind his determination.

Another series of explosions shook the heavens. The crimson formation cracked further. Through the damaged sections, a figure finally became visible.

A woman stood high above the city, wrapped in flowing crimson robes. Her face was beautiful, but twisted by fury.

A barrier of condensed blood surrounded her body. Hundreds of attacks continued slamming into it. Each impact sent ripples across its surface.

The demigod earlier confidence had vanished. The killing intent remained, but now it was mixed with unmistakable astonishment.

Below, the nearly one thousand undead prepared another round of attacks. Their emerald-green eyes shone throughout the city like countless stars.

The sight caused the expressions of everyone inside the apartment to become strange.

General Caelum had believed the five Rank Four undead inside the room were already shocking. Now he understood how laughably incomplete that assumption had been.

Those five were not Michael Norman's army. They were merely the guards he had chosen to keep inside his home.

The first exchange had already revealed that the woman had not come to capture Michael. She had come to kill him.

That realization sent a chill through Michael's heart.

Not only because he feared for himself.

Even if Aunt Mia and Lily were already safe within the Mausoleum of Endless Dominion, and even if he possessed several methods of escaping before an attack landed, what frightened and angered him more was the number of people who would have died if he had failed to respond in time.

This was not an isolated location. They were in the middle of a populated city.

Millions of ordinary people lived within it. Countless families. Children. Elderly people. If that attack had fully descended, the consequences would have been unimaginable.

At least half of the city would have vanished. Depending on the true strength of the formation above, the destruction might have spread much farther.

Michael valued his own life above the lives of strangers. He valued Aunt Mia and Lily's lives even more. He also regarded his undead as his people, regardless of the fact that most of them were technically dead.

But that did not mean the lives of everyone else were worthless to him. He was not some emotionless monster. As long as his life and the lives of his family were not at immediate risk, he was not willing to stand by while millions were slaughtered.

The fear in Michael's heart rapidly transformed into fury.

This woman deserved to die.

For the first time since awakening, Michael felt a genuine ambition to step beyond the shell he had built around himself.

Until now, most of his decisions had been defensive.

Grow stronger.

Hide his most valuable abilities.

Protect his family.

Avoid unnecessary attention.

Escape when the danger became too great.

Those instincts had kept him alive. But there came a point where constant retreat only encouraged others to continue advancing.

If he fled today, what would happen tomorrow? Would he be forced to flee again the next time a powerful force appeared?

Michael refused to allow that impression to spread at the current stage he was in.

This woman had come intending to use his death as a message.

Michael decided he would use hers instead.

Her corpse would become a declaration. A warning to Aurora. A warning to the demonic factions. A warning to every foreign force already travelling toward this realm.

Michael Norman was no longer prey.

However, wanting her dead and being able to kill her were two completely different matters. Michael understood that better than anyone.

The combined attack of nearly a thousand Rank Four undead had damaged the formation and forced the woman to defend herself, but it had not caused her any meaningful injury.

Her blood barrier remained intact. Though the ripples spreading across its surface looked violent, the aura within it remained terrifyingly stable.

This was a genuine Demigod. One that stood within Aurora without suffering any form of external suppression.

The situation would have been completely different in Hell. Here, no such restriction existed. The woman possessed her complete strength.

Even a thousand Rank Four undead could not kill her through a simple bombardment. They might exhaust her, delay her, or force her to become cautious. But if Michael continued relying solely on them, the eventual result would be catastrophic.

Many of his undead would die. The city would become the battlefield. And the woman might still escape.