Evolving My Undead Legion In A Game-Like World

Chapter 361 Pushing Limits



Chapter 361: Chapter 361 Pushing Limits


Uga wasn’t suppressing anything.


He was enjoying himself.


And that made him dangerous.


The more they fought, the more he let loose.


His reactions became sharper. Faster.


And then—it changed.


It wasn’t immediate.


But Michael noticed it.


The look in Uga’s eyes. The shift in his movements.


Gone was the slightly clumsy footwork. Gone was the big goofy grin.


Now, Uga’s shoulders were hunched. His feet stomped with force that cracked the stone. His eyes gleamed—not with madness—but primal instinct.


A beast.


Uga’s barely-tamed forest instincts were beginning to emerge.


The years in the wild… the fights with monsters… the need to survive when everything around you wanted to eat you—it was in him.


It had never left.


Uga’s next punch tore through the air with a scream, not of rage—but of joy.


Michael barely blocked it. The sheer force numbed his arm again.


Then another punch followed. Then another.


Uga didn’t stop.


He didn’t wait for an opening.


He just attacked.


Like he was hunting again.


Like Michael was a beast of the forest.


The arena trembled under the repeated impacts of his feet.


Dust burst with every clash.


Michael flipped away and launched an attack of his own—twisting mid-air to bring his elbow down on Uga’s neck.


Thud!


It landed.


And Uga responded by slamming his forehead forward, catching Michael in the chin with a sickening crack!


Michael stumbled back, blinking stars from his eyes.


The crowd roared.


Michael spat blood and grinned.


“Now you’re getting serious.”


Uga didn’t respond.


He simply charged again.


Michael raised both hands and caught the incoming blow, but the sheer force pushed him back, digging grooves into the stage floor with his boots.


He leaned forward and twisted, bringing Uga down with a shoulder throw.


The arena cracked beneath Uga’s fall.


But even before the dust could rise, Uga rolled and came back up with a roar, launching himself toward Michael again.


His fists now came in wild arcs, but they weren’t clumsy.


They were natural.


They were real.


Michael blocked.


Dodged.


Parried.


But for the first time in a long while, he struggled.


“Uga… you really are something else,” Michael said under his breath, heart pounding.


Uga grinned, breathing heavily but still wild-eyed.


“You strong. Uga happy. This best fight ever!”


Michael nodded slowly. “Yeah… same here.”


Michael shifted his stance.


Uga was stronger. That much was clear. Not by a huge margin—but enough that in a contest of pure brute force, Michael would eventually lose.


Worse, Uga had a monstrous defense. His body could tank hits that would break bones and rupture organs in most people.


So brute force wasn’t the way.


But Michael had something else—speed.


He exhaled slowly and flowed sideways.


A ghost.


Uga’s fist passed through empty air, the wind pressure alone cracking a nearby tile.


Michael reappeared on his right flank and delivered three quick jabs to Uga’s side before vanishing again.


This time behind him.


A sharp elbow to the spine.


Then gone again.


Uga turned wildly, eyes sparkling with joy and confusion. “You… fast!”


Michael didn’t reply. He was already moving. Already striking.


A palm strike to the ribs.


A knee to the thigh.


A knuckle to the shoulder joint.


Flicker. Flicker. Flicker.


Michael became a blur—an afterimage darting across the stage. His strikes weren’t powerful on their own to take Uga down, but they accumulated.


Uga took them all with gritted teeth and a growing grin, but even he began to slow.


Uga bellowed suddenly, swinging both arms in a wide arc, clearing the air around him like a hurricane.


Michael ducked under it and used the momentum to launch a spinning kick across Uga’s chest. The sound rang out like a drum strike.


“More!” Uga demanded.


He stomped forward—and the arena trembled.


Michael blurred around him again, not giving him the chance to settle into rhythm. Strike, vanish, strike, vanish.


Then—Michael ducked under a swing, placed his palm on the ground, and swept Uga’s legs from under him.


For a heartbeat, the crowd froze.


CRASH!


The sound of Uga’s body slamming into the arena cracked stone. Dust exploded in all directions.


The arena barrier trembled more like it would collapse anytime soon.


In terms of aftermath, even though the battle was just a contest of strength, it was more environmentally destructive.


Uga rolled up, laughing, even as pebbles clung to his wild hair and shoulders.


“You move like wind!” he shouted.


Michael cracked a smile. “That’s the point.”


This time, he didn’t wait.


He blurred forward again—fists jabbing, elbows cracking, knees slamming into Uga’s sides, abdomen, back. The sheer number of hits in a few seconds was dizzying. And slowly… finally… Uga staggered.


Not from injury.


But from momentum.


He blinked twice, dazed.


Michael appeared before him, arm drawn back, mana flowing through his palm.


“Let’s see if this one knocks you out.”


He punched forward—straight into Uga’s chest.


A boom echoed like a cannon blast.


Uga slid back this time.


Two meters.


Four.


Six.


His heels drew a trench in the stone floor until he finally came to a stop.


Michael straightened and exhaled slowly, flicking sweat from his brow. His armor was dust-covered. His breathing heavy. His knuckles throbbed.


But he was smiling.


Uga blinked, chest heaving. A small bruise formed where Michael’s punch had landed.


“…That was strong,” Uga said finally. He looked down at his chest. Then at Michael.


Then… he laughed.


Laughed so hard the crowd stirred again, murmurs of disbelief rising like waves.


“Mic! You real strong! Real real strong! Not like chicken!”


Michael raised a brow. “You’re really stuck on that chicken thing, huh?”


“I like chicken,” Uga said solemnly. “But you not chicken. You… panther!”


Michael gave a half-laugh, half-groan. “You know what? I’ll take it.”


Then Uga stood up straight. Fully. All his height, all his bulk. He slammed his fists together with a dull, meaty thump that echoed like a war drum.


“Uga feels something Uga never felt before.”


“Uga wants more! Uga wants more!”


It was at the moment a terrifying aura erupted from Uga.


Unparalleled Under The Heavens



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