Evolving My Undead Legion In A Game-Like World

Chapter 714: Return

Michael felt this option was good. In fact, the more he examined it, the more he realized it carried additional benefits.

A living Rank four was a treasure trove.

The memories and knowledge buried in the man’s mind, all of that was valuable to an absurd degree.

And Jester could take it.

Knowledge that Jester could integrate, that could be turned into new skills and methods.

Knowledge that Michael himself could study.

Compared to spending years or decades learning the complex principles of high ranked superpowers, Michael had to admit he preferred this quicker method.

Except that it was also cruel.

He was not blind to that. Stripping someone’s mind to feed his legion and strengthen himself was not something he would have even imagined doing months ago. The idea would have disgusted him. But people changed. At least to Michael he was still a good person.

And the old man had tried to kill him.

Michael crouched down beside the body, sensing the faint pulse of the old man.

Now the only issue was how to seal the man.

For one, he could not be allowed to regain too much strength.

For two, he absolutely could not die.

The contradiction sat heavily in Michael’s mind. A Rank four needed to be kept alive yet helpless, stable yet unable to recover. It was a paradox only possible because of his legion.

The problem had only truly taken shape in his thoughts after Michael had already reached a solution.

A faint rustle of energy brushed his palm.

At some point the damaged Coffin of the Forgotten had appeared.

From within, he summoned the undead life worm.

Despite its eerie appearance, the sensation that reached Michael was strangely familiar.

This species really feels like a medic... Michael thought with faint amusement as he recalled some of its abilities.

The life worm drifted toward the old man’s head, its tiny feelers twitching as if tasting the air. Then it gently latched onto the elder’s scalp.

A pulse of soft light spread outward.

Michael felt a stream of information brush against his mind through the worm’s link.

Internal organs severely damaged but repairable to some extent.

Meridians corroded but not collapsed.

Poison still active and slowly spreading.

Life force unstable but preservable.

Michael exhaled very quietly.

Good. He will not die unless I want him to.

But that also led to the next problem.

He could not allow the old man to ever regain full strength. Not now. Not until he was completely under control.

The life worm chirred softly and nudged another stream of information toward Michael.

It could stabilize the body.

It could use its abilities to suppress regeneration by keeping the old man’s insides in a controlled mess.

This could hold the elder’s life in a half-mended state.

But it could not seal intent or consciousness.

That job required another.

"Jester," he said.

However, since that fellow was not around, Michael would have to think of another method for now.

Michael’s fingers tightened slightly.

The solution in front of him was crude, but it was enough for now.

He looked at the worm still latched to the elder’s skull.

"Forget everything else for now," Michael said quietly. "Just make sure he does not die."

The worm responded with action.

Already, Michael could see the changes if he focused. The elder’s breathing, which had been on the verge of stuttering out completely, settled into something shallow but consistent. The color of the poisoned blood around his wounds shifted by a fraction, no longer darkening as quickly. The violent internal collapse slowed.

He was still ruined and helpless.

He was simply no longer dying.

For now, that was all Michael needed.

He let his gaze drag once more over the old man’s body as he placed the life worm back in the coffin space.

Now the next step was simple.

Prevent the man from ever regaining consciousness.

Michael already knew what to do.

He raised his hand.

Cold gathered around his fingers.

Ice spread from beneath the elder’s body in a smooth, controlled wave.

It climbed over his limbs, his chest, his neck. It flowed around him like a slow-moving tide, swallowing him piece by piece. Michael did not rush it. He guided the ice in thin layers.

By the time it reached the man’s head, the only part left exposed was his face.

Michael paused.

He extended his senses again, just enough to confirm what he needed.

The old man’s faint life energy was still there. Weak. Steady. The energy the worm left behind pulsed faintly, responding to the encroaching cold and adjusting the elder’s internal state to prevent true stasis.

Alive, but barely.

"Sleep," Michael murmured.

The final layer of ice closed over the elder’s face.

For an instant, he felt the man’s consciousness flicker, some instinctive, drowning awareness trying to surface as the cold swallowed everything.

Then it went quiet.

Michael let out a slow breath and studied his work.

What lay in front of him was a solid, coffin-shaped block of thick, reinforced frost.

A sealed container.

Michael reached out and placed his hand on the surface.

The damaged Coffin of the Forgotten responded immediately.

The icy block shrank as his mana wrapped around it, compressed by spatial force and the coffin’s own strange rules.

In the span of a breath, the human-sized slab of ice compressed down and folded inward, vanishing into the open darkness of the miniature coffin’s interior as if it had been swallowed by a bottomless well.

To anyone looking at his hand, it was just a small, old coffin again.

Michael closed the lid with a soft click after taking back his other undead as well and returned the coffin back to his soul space.

There would be time later to bring Jester, carve out the mind, and harvest everything worth keeping.

For now, there were other things to do.

Michael turned, spear resting lightly in his grip, and began making his way back toward the Federation station.

Meanwhile, back in the Federation station, the battle with the demonic supernaturals had ended.