Evolving My Undead Legion In A Game-Like World

Chapter 1181: A Bigger Future

Michael withdrew his consciousness from the Mausoleum with a satisfied nod. The transfer had been flawless.

The Soul Preservation Flame now rested within one of the Mausoleum's richest death-element regions. Given enough time and sufficient nourishment, there was even a chance it would continue growing naturally.

His gaze slowly swept across the settlement. The countless skeletons still remained exactly where they had been.

With a single thought, the space behind him distorted. The entrance to the Mausoleum silently unfolded. Unlike before, the gateway remained several dozen metres wide.

Michael calmly raised one hand.

"Enter."

The command spread across the entire settlement. Instantly, every skeleton moved without hesitation. They marched in orderly lines toward the portal, disappearing into the Mausoleum one after another.

The Skeleton Chief had to once again quietly watch as all her years of hard work were taken by another.

Within only a few minutes, the once lively skeleton settlement had become completely deserted. Not a single undead remained.

Michael briefly inspected the Mausoleum. The newcomers had already begun wandering through their unfamiliar surroundings before gradually settling down.

The only remaining inhabitant of the settlement now stood beside him. The Skeleton Chief.

Michael looked around the now-empty village before asking another question that had been bothering him for some time.

"One thing still puzzles me."

The Skeleton Chief immediately lowered her head.

"What is it, Senior?"

"The equipment you use. How did you obtain all of it?"

He had noticed it from the very beginning. Although crude, every guard possessed weapons.

The Skeleton Chief looked toward the abandoned watchtowers and the scattered weapons lying throughout the empty settlement.

"I made most of them."

This didn't surprise Michael. Given that this was someone from a much more organized civilization, using knowledge to create tools wasn't surprising.

The Skeleton Chief slowly walked toward one of the abandoned weapon racks.

"The Netherworld is rich in death-element resources. But it also possesses ordinary resources. Although they are not always the same as those found in the material world."

She bent down and picked up one of the rust-covered swords lying nearby. She extended the weapon toward Michael.

"For example… this."

Michael accepted the sword. At first glance, it looked utterly unimpressive.

The blade was dark reddish-brown. Its surface was covered with uneven patches resembling centuries of rust. The edge was dull, and several tiny chips lined its length. The hilt was wrapped in black leather that had long since hardened into something resembling stone.

But paying close attention to it now, Michael discovered something new.

"Hmmm. What metal is this?"

The Skeleton Chief answered without hesitation.

"Rusted Metal."

Michael raised an eyebrow.

"Rusted Metal?"

"A specialty ore from here."

"Interesting."

Michael suppressed his curiosity for the moment and activated Detect. A translucent panel appeared before him.

[Rusted Iron Sword]

[Grade: Rare ★]

[Description: A crudely forged sword created from Rusted Metal, an ore naturally produced within the Netherworld. Though poorly refined, it possesses exceptional affinity with dark energy and greatly exceeds ordinary mortal steel in durability.] "A One-Star Rare weapon…"

His gaze returned to the blade. This was surprising. No, it was astonishing.

This wasn't a masterpiece forged by a grandmaster blacksmith, nor was it engraved with runes. It wasn't enchanted, and it wasn't even particularly well made. Objectively speaking, the craftsmanship was mediocre at best. The balance was imperfect. The edge uneven. Several parts of the blade had obvious impurities.

Yet it had still skipped Common grade entirely and entered the Rare rank solely because of the material itself.

Michael slowly rotated the sword beneath the dim light.

A Rare grade metal, huh.

Materials determined the upper limit of equipment almost as much as craftsmanship itself. If this same ore were refined by a skilled blacksmith, if the impurities were removed and proper forging techniques and enchantments were added, then a Three-Star Rare weapon wouldn't be impossible. Perhaps even higher.

Infusing a bit of mana into it, Michael also realised the metal itself possessed unusually high affinity with death-element mana.

Michael couldn't help but smile faintly.

"The Netherworld really is a treasure land."

The more he saw, the more convinced he became. Compared to Hell, where powerful factions could at least establish footholds and repeatedly harvest valuable regions, the Netherworld was far more difficult for ordinary living beings to occupy for long periods. That naturally meant countless resources had been left untouched for absurd amounts of time.

Centuries. Perhaps millennia or eons. Even relatively ordinary materials here could possess qualities that would make realms outside fight over them.

Michael looked down at the rust-colored sword again. At present, Rusted Metal did not have much value to him personally. His strongest undead already possessed bodies that were more dangerous than most weapons, and the weaker members of his legion did not urgently need equipment.

But that would not remain true forever. His legion continued to grow, and to empower them further the importance of equipment could not be ignored.

Equipping even a portion of them with proper weapons would consume a ridiculous amount of material. And there was another reason.

The Universal Cornerstone.

Ever since obtaining it and seeing the functions connected to it, he had carried an uncomfortable feeling. The treasure had exposed him to possibilities that went far beyond the Origin Battlefield or the concept of realms entirely, whether they be separated civilizations, special dimensions, or places that had remained isolated for countless generations.

Michael had a growing suspicion that this separation would not last forever. Sooner or later, something would change. And when it did, the entire universe might be dragged into conflict.

The sub-territory function of the Universal Cornerstone stated it could be placed anywhere. If it could truly be placed anywhere, even in a place like the Land of Origin, then it seemed he might even start to worry about the empire like an actual ruler.

Michael casually tossed the sword into the Mausoleum.

"Collecting some won't hurt."

The Skeleton Chief watched the sword disappear into thin air. From everything she had seen, she could tell this man with mysterious strength had a storage treasure of a significantly high grade. Knowing that this was her ticket to finally leave this forsaken place, she wanted to be more proactive and satisfy him. Perhaps he might really take her to her father.

"Senior."

Michael looked at her.

"Yes?"

"Would you like the dark crystals as well?"

Michael's gaze shifted toward several broken baskets still scattered around the empty settlement. Inside them were rough black crystals similar to the ones previously fed into the Soul Preservation Flame.

He had already examined them earlier. They were useful, but not particularly impressive. In the Netherworld, crystals with that level of condensed dark energy were probably little different from ordinary stone in the material world.

Still, Michael thought for a moment.

"Are there stronger grades?"

The Skeleton Chief's violet soul flames flickered.

"Yes."