Evolving My Undead Legion In A Game-Like World

Chapter 1223: New Feeling

The notification remained in front of Michael, its countdown steadily decreasing.

Seeing it, Michael knew it was finally time to leave his current matters behind.

Velkaris, the assassins, the Federation, and everything happening in Aurora could wait. The Origin Battlefield was far more important, especially considering what had happened during his previous visit. There were many things he wanted to confirm but didn't have the time to.

Michael shook his head and turned toward the two severed heads floating beside Jester.

With a thought, both disappeared into his storage space. Their bodies were already there as well.

Michael intended to revive the two assassins as undead. Unfortunately, there wasn't enough time to do that now. Not that it mattered, since nothing prevented Michael from reviving them after entering the Origin Battlefield.

Michael then waved his hand toward Jester.

The next instant, Jester disappeared along with the countless golden formations.

Michael had sent him directly back to his family.

Though there was no need for Jester to constantly be with them, since this was his world and Jester had already confirmed that with the death of the two assassins, any ill fate they had was gone, he still had a family role to perform now and comfort Aunt Mia when needed.

Michael's attention returned to the countdown.

[00:08:47]

The ghost, who had been floating nearby, looked around as though searching for something else that might interest her.

Finding nothing, her translucent body drifted toward Michael. Without saying anything, she passed directly through his chest and disappeared back inside his body.

Michael didn't stop her.

After they returned to the Mausoleum, Michael had eventually paid her one Evolution Essence Crystal. Though she wished for more, the ghost had accepted it happily enough.

Michael had expected her to immediately return to the enormous tree she usually inhabited afterward. Instead, she had simply entered his body again and shown absolutely no intention of leaving.

Michael had asked why, and the answer had been surprisingly simple. His body was comfortable.

Michael could only assume this was another effect of Death's Heir. His class naturally possessed an extremely high affinity with death-related existences. The Netherworld itself had already demonstrated that.

Apparently, that compatibility worked both ways. For the ghost, perhaps inhabiting Michael's body seemed almost as comfortable as remaining within a suitable spiritual vessel. Perhaps this was why their harmony rate was so high, despite the two of them being at odds whenever they spoke.

Michael still found the situation somewhat strange. There was something inherently odd about knowing a fully conscious Demigod was casually living inside his body.

Still, he didn't refuse.

If anything, keeping her nearby was convenient. There was something else he wanted to test once the Origin Battlefield opened: whether he could bring the ghost with him.

If she could enter alongside him, that would undoubtedly be useful. Keeping her inside his body was also considerably better than sending her back to the tree.

Otherwise, Michael could already imagine what would happen the next time he needed her. He would have to travel over, convince her to leave, and probably listen to another negotiation regarding how many Evolution Essence Crystals every individual action would cost.

This was much simpler.

Michael remained still for several seconds before another thought suddenly occurred to him.

"Hey."

The ghost responded from somewhere within his body.

"What?"

"I need to give you a name."

There was a short silence.

"That has nothing to do with me."

Michael's lips twitched.

"It feels strange constantly referring to you as 'the ghost,' even inside my head."

"I don't care."

Michael ignored her lack of interest.

"Do you actually have a name?"

This time, the ghost took slightly longer to respond.

"No."

Michael's expression changed slightly.

He had expected her to simply refuse to tell him, but she genuinely didn't possess one. Considering how old she was, that was somewhat surprising, since even intelligent monsters, after a period of time, liked to give themselves a name. It might not be a good one, but it increased their sense of self.

Michael thought for a moment.

"Then I'll give you one."

"How much?"

"What?"

"If you want me to accept a name, you have to pay."

"…"

Michael stared blankly into the distance.

This woman was unbelievable.

"No."

"Then I don't need one."

Michael completely ignored her.

He considered several possibilities before settling on one.

"Lunara."

Michael nodded to himself.

"Lunara. That's your name from now on."

A translucent head suddenly emerged from his chest. The ghost stared directly at him.

"I didn't agree."

"You don't have to."

"Then it isn't my name."

"It is to me."

The ghost's silver eyes narrowed. Michael calmly stared back at her.

"Unless you already have another name, I'm calling you Lunara."

"I told you. I don't have one."

"Perfect. No conflict, then."

The ghost stared at him for several seconds before slowly sinking back into his body.

A sudden chill spread through Michael's chest. He barely had time to react before the cold rushed upward through his throat.

Michael's expression changed.

"Cough!"

Something shot out of his mouth and struck the ground several metres away.

Michael stared at it.

It was a block of ice. Not a shard or a few frozen particles, but an actual baby fist-sized block of solid ice.

"…"

Michael slowly lowered his gaze toward his chest. There was no response from Lunara.

Michael said nothing. Instead, after several seconds, a smile slowly appeared on his face.

This is…. new.

His undead had always possessed different personalities. Lucky had his strange obsession with plants. Lily was gluttonous. Beginning had his own peculiarities, while Jester was practically impossible to describe normally.

However, none of them interacted with Michael quite like this.

Perhaps it was because Lunara wasn't technically his undead yet. Their relationship was considerably less defined. She didn't treat him as a master, nor did she possess the instinctive obedience most of his undead had toward him.

If she disliked something, she showed it.

Michael found the experience strangely refreshing.

Fun, even.

His smile remained as he looked toward the panel.

[00:03:21]