Evolving My Undead Legion In A Game-Like World

Chapter 764: Treatment [1]

A/N; Some readers did not take good to the previous Chapter and some points are valid. I really apologize and will do more to prevent info dumps or focusing on the wrong things.

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The middle-aged elf held the old man’s gaze as he wondered what race he was from.

At first glance, the old man looked human.

That alone meant nothing.

The universe was filled with humanoid races. Thousands upon thousands of them. Most of them shared the same basic shape: two arms, two legs, upright posture, familiar facial structure. Unless a race carried a distinct trait, there was no reliable way to identify them at a glance.

The Starborn were obvious, with their blue, star-speckled skin.

The Drakeblood were just as easy, with scales, horns, or other monster traits that betrayed their bloodline no matter how well they hid it.

But if a race was close enough to baseline, then even a careful observer could only guess. One would need deep specialization, knowledge of regional lineages, and the habit of studying subtle markers.

The elf did not.

He was not a scholar of bloodlines.

He was a guardian of this post, and one who handled matters that required strength and authority.

But as the thought about the old man’s possible origins drifted through his mind, another followed immediately, sharp and unwelcome.

Elves were also humanoid.

The realization hit him like a quiet slap.

His expression did not change, but inwardly he stiffened.

Comparing his people to the countless "humanlike" races of the universe felt wrong, almost disrespectful.

It felt like blasphemy.

He could almost hear it.

The past queens and rulers of the realm looking down on him.

Humanoid?

Is that how you reduce us now?

Absolutely not.

He cut the thought off at once and offered a silent apology in his heart to the past queens and rulers he had respected, as if they might somehow hear him and judge him for entertaining such a careless comparison.

In fairness, elves did tend to have more queens than kings. It was a simple matter of numbers. Female elves made up a larger portion of the population, lived slightly longer on average, and were more likely to remain within the realm rather than wander. Leadership followed availability as much as talent.

That did not mean elves were a woman-led society.

They were not like the Amazari, where matriarchs ruled by unquestioned doctrine and male authority was more ceremonial than real. Elven leadership was pragmatic. Whoever was best suited led, regardless of gender. It just so happened that, more often than not, that person was a woman.

Still, there was no excuse to lump elvenkind into the same vague category as "humanlike races."

Absolutely not.

Of course, none of that surfaced on his face.

As a Rank Four, he had to give the other party face.

He had been informed that a Rank Four had arrived. This meant the other party carried considerable risk for him to evaluate.

However, there was no need to be blunt. Not yet.

So he smiled faintly and kept the tone of a host.

"Welcome," he said again, his voice smooth. "May I ask your name and origin," he continued, "so that I may address you properly."

The old man did not hesitate.

"I am Caelum Ardent, a Star General of the Aurora Federation," he said calmly. "I am here to assist a junior of my race who needs urgent healing."

The words landed softly.

But they did not pass unnoticed.

For a brief moment, several elves, Serena included, paused almost imperceptibly before regaining their composure.

Aurora.

The Aurora realm was... particular.

It was not counted among the ancient hegemonies of the universe, nor was it known for overwhelming military might or god-level figures that shaped epochs. But it was impossible to ignore.

Because Aurora was growing fast.

Civilizations usually followed a predictable path.

If not conquered, they developed internally, awakened magic or equivalent systems, and only then began to seriously interact with the wider universe after reaching a certain peak in that system.

Aurora had broken that pattern.

It was often theorized that they were one of the rare civilizations to step beyond their realm before fully understanding magic or even coming into contact with it.

At first, many had dismissed those theories. Aside from races like the Starborn, how many could truly stand strong with technology alone?

Not all races were peculiar like the Starborn, after all.

However, Aurora kept expanding.

They built realm-level fleets before they had gods.

They took over realms with realm masters who were even more powerful than their strongest individuals.

And somehow, impossibly, they survived it.

By now, it was widely accepted that Aurora was one of the fastest-growing civilizations in the known universe. Not the strongest, but the trajectory alone was enough to make people take notice.

Hearing that a Star General from Aurora stood here, in person, was quite surprising.

Serena’s surprise was brief but genuine. Her eyes flicked toward Caelum for half a breath before she masked it completely.

The middle-aged elf felt the same flicker of reaction.

Aurora.

So that was it.

Still, his reaction was not one of fear.

Aurora was not an enemy of the elven realms, nor were they a dominant power that demanded immediate caution.

This was simply unexpected.

A Star General, here.

In person.

The middle-aged elf finally shifted his attention.

His gaze moved to Serena.

Only then did he truly register her condition.

Her armor was scratched and dulled. There was dust in her hair, faint discoloration along her sleeves, and a tired tightness around her eyes that no amount of composure could fully hide. It was the same restrained weariness he recognized in Caelum himself.

They looked like people who had walked a long road without rest.

Then his eyes drifted again.

The undead.

He had known what they were from the moment he arrived.

There was no mistaking it.

As an elf whose affinity with nature deepened the stronger he became, undeath was something he felt long before he saw it.

They stirred a faint, instinctive repulsion in him, a reflex born from centuries of communion with living systems.

But he ignored it for now.

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Next Chapter has been edited.