Evolving My Undead Legion In A Game-Like World

Chapter 789: Debt

Back in the Elven realm, Michael was already done collecting all his undead into the Damaged Coffin of the Forgotten.

Due to the sanctuary supervisor and Caelum, the old Rank Four from Aurora, not leaving him alone, Michael had no choice but to reveal the coffin in the eyes of others.

Fortunately, though this was an epic-grade treasure, its appearance and the feeling it gave did not do that rank justice.

This was the only reason Michael dared to bring it out in the first place while being so close to two strong people who were probably more than ten times his age.

Fortunately, the situation turned out as expected. Aside from the large space the coffin contained, which the two Rank Fours were able to observe from how Michael collected all his undead without issue, they did not pay more attention to it.

After collecting his last undead, the sanctuary supervisor, who had been a bit quiet since Michael’s battle with the Elven princess, finally spoke.

The sanctuary supervisor turned her gaze from Michael to Caelum, her expression composed but her eyes sharp with intent.

"I trust our agreement still stands," she said calmly. "I hope you do not intend to turn away from it now."

Caelum’s face darkened almost imperceptibly. To anyone else, he looked unchanged. Only those who had known him for a long time would have noticed the tension tightening beneath his stillness.

In his mind, numbers flashed one after another. The down payment alone for stabilizing Michael’s soul injury had already torn a visible hole through his personal reserves.

If it were not for one thing, he would have already lost his temper.

The Federation.

Caelum was certain they would compensate him fully. Not just for the treatment itself, but for everything he had done since Michael appeared in their sight. Including his involvement in Hell. Including the role he had played in helping bring down a Demon Lord. Those merits were not small. They were the kind that could not be ignored, no matter how bureaucratic the upper layers of the Federation pretended to be.

If that reimbursement did not come...

He would have truly crashed out.

Outwardly, however, Caelum’s face remained expressionless. He gave the supervisor a slow, measured nod.

"You don’t need to worry," he said evenly. "We will get back to you on that matter."

The sanctuary supervisor studied him for a moment longer, then inclined her head slightly, accepting the answer at face value.

Nearby, Michael remained silent.

He understood exactly what they were talking about. Not every detail, but enough.

So he did the sensible thing.

He pretended not to understand at all.

It was a little shameless.

But it was also necessary.

Michael did not have finances to speak of.

If this quiet act of ignorance saved his nonexistent wallet from imploding, then he was more than willing to accept the shame.

The sanctuary supervisor finally turned her attention back to him.

Her gaze lingered for a brief moment, thoughtful, before she spoke again.

"About the garden your undead..."

"Give me a hundred years."

Michael did not even wait for her to finish speaking before he spoke, as he felt a slight headache coming on.

Thanks to Lily’s actions, Michael found himself in a huge debt upon waking up.

It was such a massive debt that even after he spoke, Caelum beside him acted as though he had not heard anything.

The cost was that big, even to someone at Rank Four.

If it were not for the fact that he was partly sure Lily would wake up a step closer to Rank Four or enter Rank Four immediately, Michael would have crashed out the moment the sanctuary supervisor mentioned his debt.

Thinking of how Beginning also had to "eat" something before he could ascend, Michael could not help but believe that his undead Titans were truly troublesome.

One did not simply have them without falling into debt.

The sanctuary supervisor shook her head slowly, an amused smile touching her lips as she looked at Michael.

"Are you even aware," she said lightly, "of how much you would need to pay to cover the losses your undead caused?"

Her tone was calm, almost teasing, but the meaning behind it was anything but light.

"Even I," she continued, her gaze steady, "at a rank higher than yours, would not dare say I could settle something like that in less than a hundred years."

Michael’s expression darkened at once.

A hundred years was already an absurd figure. Two hundred was the number that surfaced in his mind almost immediately.

He opened his mouth, reluctant, already preparing to say it.

Before he could, the female elf let out a soft sigh.

"A hundred years it is," she said, waving a hand as if finalizing a trivial matter. "If I do not get it by then, I will personally come find you. We can discuss it again."

Her eyes lingered on him as she spoke, sharper now, more curious than stern.

For a brief moment, a strange thought crossed her mind.

How strong would he be in a hundred years?

Surely he would have reached her stage by then. Or perhaps even surpassed it.

The thought made her pause.

She shook her head almost immediately, as if dismissing something inappropriate. It felt strange to look forward to the success of someone from another race. Stranger still to feel a faint sense of expectation about it.

Michael said nothing.

He simply nodded gratefully.

A hundred years.

To Michael, it sounded vast.

Part of it was instinct. Even now, even with the power he held, his lived experience was still short. Measured against the span of time he had actually spent breathing, struggling, and surviving, a century felt enormous. It was difficult not to see it that way.

But he also knew that perspective was deceptive.

To other supernaturals, a hundred years was not a lifetime. It was a long stretch, yes, but not an unthinkable one. Many could spend half of it in seclusion, meditation, or sleep, emerging only slightly older. Time bent differently once one stepped beyond mortality.