Evolving My Undead Legion In A Game-Like World

Chapter 737: Yet Another Surprise

No one knew what the others were thinking, but on the surface, they were all in the same boat.

The four-armed Khar’veth leader moved again.

"There is one matter that must be addressed," he said, his deep voice steady. "When you reappeared earlier, our forces reacted on instinct. You were struck before your identity was confirmed."

His four eyes fixed on Michael without hostility.

"That attack was not born of malice. Only caution. Still, responsibility remains."

He brought his four palms together once more.

"For that, I offer an apology on behalf of the Khar’veth."

Michael shook his head lightly.

"I understand," he said. "Given the situation, I would have done the same."

The tension eased another fraction.

The Khar’veth leader nodded, seemingly satisfied, then turned slightly to face the old man. His posture straightened, his expression serious.

"Elder," he said, his voice carrying clearly despite the fatigue weighing on him. "Thank you for your assistance today."

The old man looked at him.

"If not for you," the Khar’veth continued, "and your intervention, the losses on this floor would have been massive. I doubt many of us would still be standing."

The old man nodded at his words.

"You did your part as well," he replied calmly.

Before the exchange could settle further, the elf stepped forward.

"Gratitude is deserved," she said, "but we should not mistake survival for victory."

Her gaze swept across the battlefield.

Corpses littered the ground. The air was thick with residual mana and scorched earth. Exhaustion clung to every living presence.

"We survived this crisis," she continued. "That much is true. But this does not mean it is over."

"In fact, it may not have truly begun."

A subtle tension returned to the air.

"Until now," she said, "the demon lord has not appeared."

Several experts stiffened at this.

"If it were to emerge now," the elf went on evenly, "then aside from the elder here and Michael’s undead, most of us are in no condition to fight."

She did not exaggerate.

Mana reserves were low. Injuries were everywhere. Even the strongest among them had been pushed close to their limits.

"We are standing," she said. "But we are not ready."

The Khar’veth leader did not flinch at her warning.

"You speak as if numbers were ever our method," he said, his voice still loud and blunt. "We have never depended on crowding a demon lord to death."

The elf’s eyes narrowed slightly, but she did not immediately refute him.

The Virellion leader stepped in. They were a gender-neutral race. When it was time to populate, the one with the more dominant structure would become male. This was why their race appeared both male and female within the same small humanoid body.

When the Virellion spoke, their voice was calmer than the Khar’veth’s, but a cold urgency threaded every word.

"Endurance is not our problem," the Virellion said. "Time is."

"What we need is to find the demon lord and end it quickly, before it gathers numbers again like it did now."

Several experts tensed.

The Virellion continued.

"If it is allowed even a short window, it will rebuild its formation. It might pull more demons upward and repeat the chaos we just survived. Every moment we waste here delays something else."

The elf’s gaze shifted. The Khar’veth leader’s four eyes narrowed.

"There is also the issue of the lower floors," the Virellion said. "We need to resolve this quickly so we can find out what happened and prevent another possible catastrophe based on the situation. If we delay too long, we will be forced to ask for help from our home realm."

A heavy silence followed.

This issue involved every race present. It could not be taken lightly.

As for asking for help, they already had. The fact that no one had arrived yet only showed how difficult it was to send more powerful individuals into the higher floors.

The old man listened without interruption.

When the Virellion finished, the elder’s gaze swept across them all.

"You do not need to worry so much," he said at last.

"As the Khar’veth has said, we are not without power to battle a demon lord. Putting everything else aside, the Drakeblood race has someone like me on the early floors as well. Someone already searching for the demon lord."

"If we group up," the old man went on, "then we can surely resolve this matter."

He glanced toward the horizon, as if he could already see the path they needed to take.

"What we need now is simple. We find the demon lord."

However, the old man had barely finished speaking when it came.

A terrifying energy surged in the distance, followed by a thunderous roar.

Several experts stiffened instantly.

Even Michael’s undead, scattered across the battlefield, reacted.

The old man’s expression did not change, but the calm in his eyes deepened into something colder before he vanished.

The Khar’veth leader turned his head toward the others, then toward the old man’s last position.

"Do you all know what I am thinking?" he asked.

Without waiting for a reply, he continued.

"The demon lord has appeared. And based on that roar..."

His gaze narrowed.

"It is probably an elder of the Drakeblood race."

If it truly was a Drakeblood elder, then with the old man present, they should be able to resolve it.

That was what everyone thought.

Even so, none of them hesitated.

They had survived too much to trust in assumptions alone. A demon lord was not something anyone wanted to leave to two people if they could help it.

However, before they could move, every body on the battlefield stiffened.

Michael’s instincts screamed before his eyes even followed.

He looked up.

Two figures hovered high in the air.

No.

Three.

It could not be helped. Among the three, two felt like suns.

"What in the heavens is going on?" someone muttered.

Yes, it was yet another group of Suppressed Rank Four.

And the third figure...

Their aura was familiar.

It was the one who had chased him earlier.