Evolving My Undead Legion In A Game-Like World

Chapter 768: Pride of a Realm [1]

Aurora was called many things in the universe among the races that knew it.

Second only to the Starborn when it came to technological advancement.

Possessor of the strongest military presence among lower-tier realms, largely because they were almost invisible in low-tier supernatural conflicts.

While these descriptions sounded like praise, they also revealed the true reputation the Aurora Realm held in the wider universe.

Though Aurora had long surpassed the level of a low-tier civilization and entered the higher ranges of mid-tier races, among true powers it was still not considered complete. This could not be helped. Its foundation was lacking. Even so, it was already impressive that Aurora had achieved so much in less than four hundred years.

However, that same brilliance also made Aurora a thorn in the side of other civilizations. Of course, the ones bold enough to resent it were those of similar strength, most of whom were already enemies of Aurora.

It was not that other civilizations were incapable of growing as fast. Rather, nearly all civilizations that developed at such a pace had already submitted themselves to a higher power. Aurora had not.

That was what made it dangerous.

If a race could reach this level in four hundred years on its own, then given twice that time, it would obviously grow far stronger, assuming its natives did not sabotage themselves.

There was a trait shared by all strong races. Within their sphere of influence, civilizations of similar level could not coexist. It was brutal, but it was the law of the universe and the right of the strong.

The civilizations close to Aurora understood this. Sooner or later, with the speed of its development, they would be swallowed by the tiny giant known as Aurora. If they could not stop it alone, then the only remaining option was to unite and suppress it together.

At first, this had been nothing more than a temporary alliance. But the moment it became clear that Aurora could handle all of them while continuing to develop, the situation changed. For the sake of their own survival, it became a battle between civilizations.

If there was one thing the Aurora Federation desired aside from expansion, it was stronger individuals and greater reputation.

Caelum’s happiness was not without reason.

In the wider universe, reputation carried weight almost as heavy as strength. It earned respect, and that respect opened doors brute force never could. Trade routes became easier to secure. Alliances came with fewer hidden conditions. Even hostile realms thought twice before acting recklessly.

Aurora lacked deep foundations, but it compensated with momentum. What it needed most was recognition among established races. Proof that it could stand its ground.

Michael’s undead, fighting within the elven realm and holding their own, had done more than defend their master.

Face had been gained.

Though this event meant little to true higher powers, it was still significant. It showed that elven youths could not stand against an Aurora youth who was many times younger than them.

That was why Caelum was pleased.

His thoughts drifted back to how it had all begun.

At the time, the situation had been urgent. Michael’s condition was unstable. Combined with his status as a holy child, the elves had offered their best.

The healer assigned to Michael was not a wandering expert or a local elder. She was someone who resided within the Royal Elven Academy, an institution reserved for talented elves and noble bloodlines. That alone showed the level of treatment Michael had received, whether the elves admitted it or not.

The academy itself was a city grown into the forest. Vast halls shaped from living trees stood beside stone platforms wrapped in vines. Bridges of woven roots connected towers where students trained, studied, and cultivated. Mana flowed freely through the grounds, guided by formation lines etched into bark and earth. It was a place where pride was nurtured as carefully as talent, and where most students had never tasted true defeat.

That was where the problem began.

Michael’s arrival was not hidden. His treatment was not subtle. Whispers spread quickly through the academy. Curious youths, confident in their lineage and strength, wanted to know who the human was. Who this outsider was that required royal-level healing.

They wanted to see him.

At first, Caelum could tell the elves treated the matter lightly. A holy child from a young realm sounded impressive, but Aurora was still new in their eyes. Titles meant little without proof. Many likely assumed Michael was more symbol than substance.

Then they met his undead.

Without Michael ever appearing, without him even waking, the academy’s students were stopped again and again. Attempts to approach were blocked. Probes were cut short. Pressure was met with greater pressure. Losses accumulated quietly.

That was when the higher ups began to pay attention.

Pride did the rest.

The elves did not withdraw. Instead, rewards were offered. Promises of recognition, resources, and advancement were placed before their best students. If one group failed, another was sent. Each time, they were beaten back by Michael’s undead, who had also been given preparation and advantages of their own.

Michael himself became impossible to ignore. His undead were his power, and that power had already embarrassed a royal academy. Still, the elves refused to believe they were beneath a holy child from another realm. They believed their own chosen youths could compete, if not surpass him.

They were wrong.

But elves were a prideful race. If they admitted inferiority, Caelum would have thought something was wrong with them, or that their bloodlines had grown weak and brought shame to their ancestors.

In any case, even if Michael’s undead were to lose now, what had been done could not be undone.

The old elf turned her gaze toward Caelum, irritation flashing through her eyes.

She could tell what he was thinking. She could also tell that he was enjoying it far too much.

She said nothing.

Instead, she shifted her attention to Michael.

Her face remained calm and unreadable, as it always was, but her thoughts drifted back to the moment she had first laid hands on him, when he had been brought into the inner sanctuary and placed under her care.

She remembered clearly how fragile his state had been.

*

A/N; Next Chapter has been edited!