Michael returned quietly to his manor in Thornvale. Though his own territory was still very much alive deep in the darkness thanks to his undead advancements, no one noticed their missing lord had returned.

It was not surprising. Unlike when he had not yet grasped spatial powers and needed to sneak out and avoid detection, the current Michael could move however he wished without anyone knowing. That extended to many at the same rank as well.

The first thing Michael did after returning was bathe.

He could have cleaned himself instantly with magic, but that felt boring. He also wanted to use the bath to clear his head.

Since he had no intention of sending a prompt message to the maids at this hour, Michael simply wielded his mana to fill the bathtub with water and heated it with magic.

Though Death’s Heir had made his affinity with darkness almost dominant, suppressing his other elemental affinities in the process, it had not stripped him of them entirely.

Using them now compared to before felt slow and dull, like switching from a luxury vehicle to something five generations old and passed down through repeatedly from father to son.

His class choice was not without consequences.

However, Michael could bypass this limitation through his law. All he needed was to copy the traits of any of his more than two thousand undead and inherit their elemental affinity.

What Michael was unaware of was that though his affinity with other elements had been brought down, it was still many times higher than that of ordinary people. Perhaps he could not compare with rare monstrous geniuses in other elements without using his law, but the ordinary genius was far from his level.

Taking a bath did not require many complications.

After some time Michael exhaled slowly and rose from the bath once the water had gone cold. He dried himself with mana before reaching for a fresh set of clothes. Soon a new set of nightwear settled cleanly over his body and Michael sighed in comfort.

Once done, he stepped toward the mirror.

For a moment he simply stood there.

The figure in the mirror was striking.

His skin was pale, but not in a sickly way. It looked healthy and well-maintained, like polished jade under soft light, without a single blemish. His eyes were a neon green that seemed to draw the soul of anyone who dared to stare too long. His hair fell freely over his shoulders, long and dark, reaching his waist, framing his face in a way that only emphasized his features further.

Even Aunt Mia, who felt men should not keep long hair past a certain limit, could not bring herself to persuade him to cut it.

There was no denying it. Michael was ridiculously handsome.

Michael, however, did not see it that way. He just felt he did not look bad. But every time he looked at himself he could not help but sigh.

"Why do I look like this?"

It was not that anything was wrong. It was just that he leaned a bit more toward the beautiful side than the handsome.

His fingers were long and slender, almost delicate in proportion. His eyelashes were slightly longer than what most would associate with a man, framing his eyes in a way that softened his gaze.

His hair, while unstyled, naturally fell in a smooth flowing manner that leaned more toward elegance than roughness. His build was lean and muscular but not imposing. Not the kind that screamed strength at a glance.

He did not look weak, but he did not look like the peak of masculinity either.

"It’s a bit too much."

Calling it feminine was a stretch. But it leaned in that direction.

Even Rynne, who had a slender physique as well, had more apparent muscle, which Michael linked to her armorer class. And she was far from the only woman at the academy who looked like she could protect him rather than the opposite.

"I wonder what Lily sees in this look. Whatever. We’ll see how she turns out after becoming a High Human anyway. If it’s too troublesome I’ll just merge my blood essence with Aunt Mia rather than evolve her. Though the effect will be less it would still fulfil my requirements."

Michael pushed those thoughts aside.

Appearance was the least of his concerns right now.

He turned away from the mirror and walked to the chair by the window before sitting down slowly.

"Let’s see."

With a thought he called up his panel. The familiar interface unfolded before him, lines of information stacking neatly in his vision.

His gaze lingered briefly on his level before moving downward.

Leveling up had never been just about the number. This time was no different.

Putting aside the minor increases to his base attributes, which at this stage were almost negligible, what brought a smile to his face was his attribute points.

"Five hundred and seventeen."

The number had jumped from four hundred. Even at this stage it was still a meaningful boost. Every level-up now gave Michael thirteen attribute points, six from being a High Human and seven from his class.

Technically he was a True Human, but Michael could tell this was simply some form of enhanced High Human.

After observing his Mortal God physique progress from his last advancement however, Michael had developed another theory he felt was closer to the truth.

Most likely his last evolution had simply brought forward a title from a future advancement ahead of its natural timing. This would explain why he had attracted a lightning tribulation at Rank 3 instead of Rank 4 like others.

Technically Michael, who could match late stage Rank 3 supernaturals before his advancement, should not struggle against early stage Rank 4 creatures after advancing. But he could tell that was his current ceiling until he progressed further in other ways.

His theory was that the lightning tribulation only came to those who had, or were about to develop, a Mortal God physique. Given that the tribulation itself could progress this physique, Michael felt he was not far from the truth.

This brought him another question though. Were other Rank 4 supernaturals also at twenty-five percent progress in their physique, or were they like the previous him, standing only at the threshold?

For that he felt he would need to meet Jester and retrieve the memories extracted from the demonic supernatural’s consciousness.

Michael leaned back slightly in his chair, fingers tapping lightly against the armrest.

His thoughts shifted back to the panel as he focused on his other gain.

A class skill.

Michael was no stranger to class skills, except this time he was no longer a Necromancer. This skill was a core skill of the Death’s Heir class.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​