Evolving My Undead Legion In A Game-Like World

Chapter 834: The Day

A gigantic drake body lay further in, occupying an immense amount of space. The scales were dark and thick, layered like armor plates. Its head alone looked large enough to crush a carriage, and the curved horns that rose from its skull carried faint, dried traces of battle.

Even in death, the drake’s aura lingered.

Michael stared at the drake for several seconds.

Unlike the old man who was barely alive, the drakeblood was thoroughly dead. The only thing they had in common was that they were both poisoned.

As for what to do with the body of the drakeblood, Michael did not know. He had only taken the body because he knew it would be valuable.

In any case, whether it was to be turned into an undead or used as material for his talent to devour and gain more evolution points, the corpse was indeed worth a great deal.

"Though Director Arven said I should not leave the academy grounds, with everything that has happened with the Federation and demonic supernaturals, I cannot feel at ease about my family’s current situation. Only by meeting them can I feel even slightly reassured. But with the current situation, can I even evolve Lily and Aunt Mia like I initially planned?"

Under the watchful eyes of the Federation, Michael felt that was not a wise move. It seemed he would need to personally push the procedure to relocate his family closer to the academy before he could regain some level of freedom.

"In any case, what is most important now aside from ensuring my family’s safety is advancing to Rank 3. When I return, I will order more corpses through the academy channel while waiting to see if I can obtain soul recovery treasures elsewhere. If I cannot get them quickly and it takes too much time, I think a thousand Rank 3 undead is enough to secure a good grade."

Michael knew advancing was the only method aside from evolving again to repair his soul. But he was reluctant to risk losing a perfect grade for his Rank Advancement Mission. Still, if it was going to take too long, it was worth questioning whether waiting was the right choice.

At least the current Michael had not reached the point of ignoring time.

He could only continue to do his best.

Like that, a week passed in silence.

Michael stayed inside his villa as if the walls themselves were part of his cultivation.

The first day was for recovery.

Not of flesh, but of mind.

Hell had a way of clinging to people. Even after returning to Aurora, he still felt uneasy.

So he forced himself to slow down.

He ate. He slept. He sat in stillness until his nerves no longer rang like alarms.

That same day, he left the villa once.

In the early morning, when the academy paths were quiet, he stepped out and made an order through the academy’s internal channel for corpses. Enough to fill his contract slots under the guise of requiring them as materials for his studies.

This did not cause suspicion since Michael was a necromancer.

If he did not handle corpses, then something would truly be wrong.

Later that night, he communicated with his family.

It was not long. Nor detailed.

Just enough to confirm their condition.

He wanted to ask more. To check everything. To make sure nothing felt off.

But the memory of Caelum’s gaze, the Federation’s pressure, and Arven’s warning made his hand hesitate.

Messages could be tracked.

Even if the academy shielded him, he did not want to test how deep that protection truly went. Not yet. Not while the situation was still heated.

So he kept the conversation shallow.

To his relief and expectation, his family were fine.

More than fine, apparently.

Jester and Lily had become something close to internet gaming stars.

For a moment, Michael did not know whether to laugh or sigh.

Of all the things he had expected to happen while he was in Hell, that was not one of them.

It eased him slightly.

His worry did not vanish.

It simply grew quieter.

After the first day, the remaining six days were pure seclusion.

Michael did not step outside again.

He sat in the center of his room with his back straight, eyes half closed, awareness turned inward. His Law pulsed faintly inside him, incomplete yet present, like a half written sentence demanding to be finished.

Comprehension was never comfortable.

It was not like learning a spell or refining a skill.

It was wrestling meaning out of the universe and forcing it to take shape within him.

That said, Michael’s seclusion was far from stagnant.

If anything, it was the period where his growth accelerated the most.

Thanks to his abnormally high comprehension and the layered advantages surrounding him, what should have taken months began condensing into days.

His Gift, the Eye of Truth, remained the most crucial factor.

Whenever he sank deep enough into meditation, faint fractures of reality became visible to him. Threads. Patterns. Underlying structures that ordinary awakeners could never perceive without standing at far higher ranks.

He did not always understand what he was seeing.

But understanding was not required at first.

Then there were the Law Seeds.

The fragments he had harvested from monsters in the past. Each carried an imprint, a distorted but usable reflection of the Laws those creatures had once brushed against.

Michael’s foundation absorbed them.

Refined them.

Reinterpreted them through the lens of his own path.

Day by day, his Law moved closer to completion.

Days passed.

By the end of the week, Michael’s mind had settled far more than when he first returned from Hell.

However, compared to Aurora, where Michael did nothing but seclude himself in pursuit of the next rank, the situation around him in the Land of Origin was lively.

After so many delays back and forth, to the extent that Michael had begun to feel like a permanent resident of the Evermoon Mansion, the day to finally explore the ruins arrived.

It was today.