And then, for a split second, everything went quiet. The remaining three Yuimons paused, looking at their fallen comrade. The massive body lay still on the forest floor, the green glow of the undeads reflecting off its blood-soaked hide. The undeads turned to face them, their green eyes fixed on their next target. The silence stretched.

Darion felt a grin spread across his face. Hell yeah. That had been easier than he expected. The first Yuimon had fallen, and it had fallen fast. The combination of Ghet Ulg’s raw power, Edric Vorne’s precision, and the swarm of thirty undead knights had overwhelmed it before it could even mount a proper defense. For a moment, Darion allowed himself to feel the satisfaction of victory.

Being a Necromancer was actually fun, he realized. He didn’t have to do all the heavy fighting himself, and honestly, he wasn’t a good fighter anyway. He knew his limits. He could hold a sword, swing it in the general direction of an enemy, but he didn’t have the training or the instinct of a true warrior.

If he had been a weapon summoning class, he would have had to at least fight, would have had to stand on the front lines and exchange blows with whatever came at him.

Even mages had to cast spells, focus their energy, and channel their power in the heat of battle. But him? He just had to unearth corpses. That was the physical part. Digging them up, exposing them to the air, and speaking the word. Everything after that was automatic. His undeads went to work. They fought, they did seemingly brave and outrageous stuffs, they died again, all while he stood back and watched.

Seren looked at him now then back at the battle in front of them. Her arrows were like broomsticks at this point. She was a good archer, one of the best, but in a fight like this, against creatures like these, her arrows would do little more than annoy the Yuimons. They were too small, too light and too weak to penetrate the thick armored hides.

The Yuimon death had been only one side of the battle by the way. While Ghet Ulg and Edric Vorne had mained on that one, assisted by twenty to thirty undead knights, the two other Yuimons were mained by the remaining undeads. The wolves acted like under creatures, taking the lower ground, snapping at the Yuimons’ legs and ankles, distracting them from the real threats. The undead knights took the front, what was in front of them, going hard and hitting hard. Their swords and axes rose and fell in a relentless rhythm, each strike chipping away at the creatures’ defenses.

The Yuimons were strong, yes, very powerful creatures. Their bodies were armored, their limbs were like battering rams, and their circular mouths were filled with teeth that could crush bone.

But against this much brutal force? Against one hundred and fifty undeads swarming them from all sides? They were outnumbered. They were outmatched. It was like watching a pack of wolves take down a bear, not because the wolves were stronger, but because there were too many of them, and they never stopped attacking.

The fight was pure domination. The undeads moved with a single purpose, their movements synchronized, their attacks relentless. The Yuimons thrashed and roared, trying to shake off their attackers, but the undeads held on. They climbed the creatures’ bodies, stabbed at their joints, targeted their eyes and mouths. The Yuimons were powerful, but they were also slow. The undeads were faster, more agile, and they never tired.

Now that the first one was dead, all the attention shifted to the two remaining. The undeads surrounded them, closing in from all sides. The wolves darted in and out, snapping at the creatures’ legs, forcing them to shift their weight, making it harder for them to focus on the real threats.

The knights pressed forward, their blades finding gaps in the Yuimons’ armor, carving deep wounds into their flesh.

Darion could have gone to revive the fallen Yuimon, but in this chaos? There was no way. He imagined entering the fray, trying to reach the corpse while the two remaining Yuimons thrashed and fought.

He would be killed instantly. The undeads wouldn’t be able to protect him in that kind of chaos. Even summoning or unsummoning a creature would require him to focus, to concentrate, and in the middle of a battle like this, that kind of focus would get him killed. He stayed back. He watched. He trusted his army to do its job.

In the end, one hundred and fifty undeads defeated the two remaining Yuimons. It was a quick fight, brutal and efficient. The first Yuimon fell within minutes, overwhelmed by the sheer number of attackers. The second held out longer, fighting desperately, but it was only a matter of time. The undeads wore it down, piece by piece, until it could no longer stand.

But the fight wasn’t without cost. Darion lost a wolf, not his original undead wolf though, torn apart by a Yuimon’s claws before the knights could intervene. He also lost three knights, their bodies crushed by the creatures’ massive limbs.

When the last Yuimon fell, the forest fell silent again. The undeads stood over the corpses, their green eyes glowing, their weapons still raised. They had won. They had defeated four creatures that the system had rated as Very High threat.

Words appeared in Darion’s status screen:

[Congratulations host on killing 4 Yuimons]

Darion walked up to the corpse of the Yuimons, examining them closely as he approached. Seren followed from a distance, her bow still in hand, her eyes scanning the treeline for any signs of more creatures.

The forest floor was littered with debris from the fight: broken branches, torn earth, pools of dark blood that had seeped into the soil. The four massive bodies lay scattered across the clearing, their armored hides still gleaming faintly in the dim light.

It had been a pretty good fight. Not a close one, his undeads had absolutely dominated. The Yuimons had been powerful, yes, but they had been outnumbered and overwhelmed before they could mount any real defense.

And now he had four Yuimon corpses in front of him. Creatures that were so strong that they would make him more powerful than he was now. Creatures that would give him more hope in his inventory in case of any upcoming battles or when he was stranded in a situation where he needed overwhelming force.

This week truly has been a good one. First, he had gotten much stronger undead knights, most notably Ghet Ulg and Edric Vorne. Their stats were exceptional, strength in the 80s and 90s, loyalty near perfect, endurance that would let them fight for hours without slowing down.

And now he had four Yuimons, creatures that the system had rated as Very High threat, creatures that would have killed him in seconds if not for his undead army. He was building something real. Something powerful.

The corpses weren’t too damaged by the way. His undeads hadn’t beaten them too much, no unnecessary destruction, no shattered bones and no pulverized skulls. The Yuimons had been killed cleanly, efficiently, their bodies still intact enough to be useful.

Darion crouched down beside the first Yuimon. He placed his hand on its chest, feeling the cold, still flesh beneath his palm. He focused his energy, felt the familiar pull in his chest, and spoke the word.

"Arise."

Green light spread from his hand, washing over the massive body like liquid fire. It seeped into the wounds, filled the hollow spaces, and wrapped around the bones. The creature’s body twitched once, twice, and then its eyes opened, glowing green. It rose slowly, its massive frame unfolding from the ground, its movements stiff at first, then smoother as the binding settled.

He moved to the next one.

"Arise."

Again, the green light. Again, the twitching, the rising, the glowing eyes.

The third.

"Arise."

And the fourth.

"Arise."

One by one, the Yuimons rose from the dead, their green eyes burning in the dim light, their bodies still and waiting. They were his now. They would serve him. They would fight for him.

[Congratulations on reviving four Yuimons]

For a second there, Darion had thought that it wouldn’t work, that his system might say his rank was too low for creatures this good, just like it had done before. He had half-expected a rejection message, a cold notification telling him he wasn’t powerful enough. But the system had accepted him. His rank was enough!

Darion’s status screen appeared in front of him now:

[STATUS]

Name: Darion

Title: Baron of Percvale

Class: Necromancer

Rank: Acolyte

Territory: Percvale (Border Domain)

Territorial Resonance: Low (Starving-aligned — Improving)

[ATTRIBUTES]

Strength: 78 [+4]

Agility: 67 [+3]

Endurance: 78 [+2]

Vitality: 68 [+2]

Perception: 68 [+2]

Intelligence: 102 [+2]

Willpower: 80 [+2]

[Knight Undead Inventory: 147/150]

[Animal Undead Inventory: 20/70]

[Skills: Death Perception, Distant Command]

Darion stared at the status screen. Just small increases...